


A Deal with the Prince

by STARSdidathing



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Tony Stark, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asgard (Marvel), Asgardian Tony Stark, Attempted Blackmail, Attraction, Awesome Frigga (Marvel), Bad Decisions, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Tony Stark, Communication Failure, Courtship, Denial of Feelings, Desire, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Roller Coaster, Eventual Happy Ending, Fake/Pretended Friendship, Feelings Realization, Flirting, Gratuitous Smut, Heavy Angst, Illusions, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Loki Angst, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Feels, Loki Has Issues, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki is an idiot, Loki-centric, M/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Masturbation, Miscommunication, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious, Ouch, Pining, Poor Loki, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possibly Unrequited Love, Prince Loki (Marvel), Propositions, Propositions & Deals, Protective Frigga (Marvel), Realization, Redemption, Relationship Problems, Sex Magic, Sneaky Frigga (Marvel), Tony Being Tony, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Wall Sex, Wordcount: 50.000-100.000, Æsir | Aesir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2018-11-28 17:11:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 82,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11422461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/STARSdidathing/pseuds/STARSdidathing
Summary: Loki might be a Prince of Asgard, but that doesn't mean that he's well liked or able to get what he wants easily. Anthony Howardson is a weaponsmith who is incredibly handsome and uninterested in Loki's attempts at friendship. Loki knows he'll never be the one that Anthony wants, but when the opportunity presents itself to solve a problem for Anthony, Loki isn't going to miss the chance to offer a deal. Anthony is well known for taking pleasure in a multitude of lovers; surely Loki can present a solution that is mutually satisfactory? Loki could solve Anthony's problem, and in return, Anthony would spend a night with him.COMPLETE





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [A Deal with the Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15850875) by [KYotodo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KYotodo/pseuds/KYotodo)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The Asgardian 70k+ sex heavy fic that I've been mentioning on and off for months. It is finally done! Yaaay! The lovely and wonderful **rightsidethru** is betaing this for me and she is seriously a freakin' _gem_. Her help is phenomenal and her nickname for this fic continues to make me giggle. Send her lots of warm wishes and hugs for being so lovely. ♥
> 
> But, okay, to this story. People who were here in the Fractal days know that I post on a regular schedule and this will be the same. This story will be posted at roughly the same day/time as this every two weeks. Why two weeks, do you say? Because this sucker has such long chapters, that's why! They're like 8k at the very least, so let me enjoy making you suffer between updates, hehe.
> 
>  **PLEASE NOTE:** Since this is a super sex heavy fic and I have a few readers who aren't keen on sex scenes, I've put a little ** in the text to signify the rough start and rough end of the more prep/penetration sex scenes. Before that you might get some sexual thoughts and nakedness/kissing, but the hardcore stuff should be skipped? Let me know if you think it should shift and I'm happy to do that. But this way, if you wanna read the story minus the sex, the asterisks should help you out :)

“I can rid you of your problem.”

Anthony had spun around abruptly to face the speaker, his eyes were wide with unexpected surprise and his hand had moved to the nearest sword on the bench beside him instinctively. Loki didn’t fault him for that reaction; no one liked to be startled and Loki had teleported directly into Anthony’s workshop while the other was alone. Before that, Loki had waited in his chambers, magically watching Anthony’s residence until he’d known that they wouldn’t be disturbed. 

It took Anthony a few shocked moments to recover from his initial reaction but when he registered who was speaking, the weaponsmith relaxed his grip on the hilt of his blade. The suspicion and irritation, however, didn’t fully leave his eyes. People hated when Loki teleported near them – but, of course, it could also be said that Anthony didn’t like _Loki_ being near _him_. 

Loki didn’t know for certain which option it was, but he still tried not to let the latter sting him too much. 

“Prince Loki,” Anthony addressed the other cautiously before responding to his words. “What do you know of it?”

“I know it exists,” Loki tilted his head. “Would you not consider that to be knowledge enough?”

Anthony gritted his teeth, but he also put the sword back on his work bench before turning to face Loki once more. The relaxation and willingness to talk was... promising. 

“Why would you offer to assist me with it?”

It was something that Loki had debated over for some time since discovering Anthony’s little _inconvenience_. He knew he was not the most… prized or personable of people, and that he had a reputation of only doing something that would gain him what he wanted in return. There were few who sought to gain his favour for political or increase in social status for that and numerous other reasons. 

Simply put, Loki was not what people wanted.

He was a trickster, a mischief-maker, and the man that everyone turned to as a last resort. People only made deals - ones they could hardly stomach - with him when they were desperate enough and unable to turn anywhere else. Loki didn’t want that from Anthony, however; he didn’t want violent disgust at the mere thought of him - but Loki also knew that what he wanted and what he could gain through honest methods would never actually align. Loki had to take the opportunities where he could find them.

“You are aware that I’m never one to turn down a favour.”

Anthony’s eyes might have cleared to something understanding and shrewd, but he didn’t lose his tension nor his caution. “... and what would you want in return for doing this?”

Loki didn’t hesitate in his reply; he didn’t want to show how nervous and how full of longing he truly was for the other Asgardian. He also kept his answer simple. “You.”

Anthony blinked and Loki had to resist the urge to tilt his chin, to overcompensate for a confidence he didn’t feel.

“Me?” Anthony was quick to start seeking clarification when he continued with: “In what _way_ do you want me?”

Loki let his gaze trail over Anthony, pointed and slow. When he reached Anthony’s eyes again, Loki told him, “You are intelligent enough to know, I think.”

Anthony didn't quite recoil, but the shock was impossible to miss. "You would bargain for a night in my _bed?_ "

"No. I would request a night of having _you_ in _**mine**_."

Anthony's eyes narrowed sharply. "Why?"

Loki laughed a little harshly. "I think that would be obvious."

"Why would you ask for _this?_ " he clarified with a scowl. "Why request _that_ when there are far more useful things that you could be asking me for?"

Loki glared slightly while adding a bite to his tone in warning when he responded to the other man, “That is my decision to make, Howardson.”

“Well, with respect, _Prince_.” Anthony almost spat the title, “You are asking me to barter my body like a whore-”

“I am offering you a deal.” Loki’s voice was cold as he interrupted the other. “You can do whatever you wish in response, but I’ve listed my terms.” Loki raised his eyebrows in a disparaging gesture as he added, “And I will advise you, finding the perpetrator of this problem will be much harder for _you_.”

Anthony’s face went blank as he murmured quietly, “There was someone involved.”

“Your armour, weaponry, and reputation are of excellent quality,” Loki stated, less a compliment and more a fact. “There is no chance there could be such complications with your supplies unless someone in Alfheim or Asgard wished to cause trouble.”

“You know who did it.”

Loki smirked. “I do.”

“ _Who?_ ” Anthony demanded harshly. He took a step closer, fury burning bright and hot in his eyes. It made Loki wonder, as it always did, if passion rose within the other man just as beautifully. He _itched_ to find out, and it was the whole reason Loki was here, proposing what he had. 

It was the whole reason he didn’t tell Anthony who the conspirator was. Why he didn’t try and feed Anthony words and actions that would make Loki look more palpable. He knew how little it helped him in the long run as he’d tried those actions in the past; careful attempts to gain Anthony’s favour that were only met with suspicion and uncertain glances. He had been rebuffed, as well, with friendly attempts of getting to know the other politely but frustratingly declined at every turn.

Loki knew Anthony was... open in his partners and had no fixed interest in any one person. It was why Loki was willing to take a chance; it was also why he stiffened his spine and refused to give Anthony the name that he wanted. He had but a single chance and a single piece of leverage and Loki wouldn’t squander it. “I will not say.”

Anthony gritted his teeth. “This is my _livelihood_. I am not a Prince and cannot just _sweep_ some disagreement under the-”

“Mind your tongue,” Loki warned Anthony, his voice sharp. He might have warded the area from Heimdall’s eye, but Anthony wasn’t aware of that foreplanning and such words were dangerous to say where the Allfather could become aware of them.

Anthony looked away, jaw tight as he ground his teeth. “That name-”

“Is a key reason you would accept my offer,” Loki told him simply, and it made Anthony look up at him. Loki smoothed down his tunic slightly, if only to help distract from and hide the emotions scratching beneath his masks. But Anthony’s eyes didn’t even flick downwards to his hands; they were locked on his own. It made Loki internally sigh, sad and resigned at his situation before he continued: “I won’t give up my advantage. The information and the solution to your problem are the things I will give you if you accept my proposition.”

“Did you arrange this?” Anthony demanded, accusation in his eyes and tone. “Did you put this into place to get a chance at what you want?”

“No,” Loki admitted honestly, deeply burying the wince at that remark. Anthony’s suspicion was only natural, no matter how much it hurt him. Loki made himself ignore it while also taking a careful step closer to the other, feeling relieved when Anthony didn’t immediately replace the distance between them. So he took another one forward. “But I know how to make use of it.”

They were close enough now that Loki would have barely had to move his hand to touch Anthony’s hip. He refrained - mostly because Anthony had not yet agreed to his proposition, and because he had gotten subtly stiffer the closer that Loki had moved.

Anthony’s voice was flat when he asked, “And what if I tell you _no?_ ”

“Then you say no. You are not incapable of solving this problem, but I can do it much easier—and sooner.” That, at least, made Anthony finally relax. It was just enough of a loosening of his tension that Loki dared to lift his hand and very lightly brush the front of Anthony’s shoulder. “And I know that you are very fond of carnal activities.”

Anthony let out a harsh laugh at Loki’s remark, his mouth curving into a bitter smirk. “With lovers that I _choose_.”

Loki pretended not to react to Anthony’s loose rejection and the flare of pain it inspired. He let his fingers trace a slow, straight path over the fabric of Anthony’s shirt instead. “And I am giving you that choice.”

“A choice heavily weighted in your favour,” Anthony pointed out angrily.

Loki smiled without humour. “I prefer situations where that happens, yes.”

Anthony stepped back and out of his reach, and Loki hovered his hand in the air before dropping it, curling it into a fist when it was back at his side and out of Anthony’s view.

“How long shall I have to decide?”

Loki heard the answer slipping free from his mouth, but hardly felt the movement of his lips forming the words. “Tomorrow evening.”

“You...” Anthony looked around the room before back at Loki, a hint of desperation tightening his eyes. “I don’t have enough time to...” He trailed off and clenched his fists. When he looked up, his eyes were furious. “That’s too far in your favour.”

“We both want something from this, Anthony,” Loki told him; “The longer you have to solve your problem, the less likely you are to choose my solution.”

“Give me a second day.”

Loki blinked, taken aback by the demand. “My parameters were clear-”

But he stopped speaking when Anthony took a step closer, a determined frown furrowing his brow. “Two evenings from now before my decision is needed.”

His lips were pursed and Loki’s eyes caught on them. _Compensation_ , his mind whispered with far too much temptation, _kiss him_. But Loki swallowed it down and stepped back.

_A single day more._

“Very well,” he allowed and the relief that slipped across Anthony’s shoulders and face brought with it a bitter kind of pleasure.

He liked to see Anthony relaxed and happy, but Loki didn’t like knowing it was because Anthony had more time free from _him_.

“You have two evenings, Howardson. Should you not seek me out sooner, I will return here for your answer.”

Loki flexed his hand, a pre-prepared spell igniting between them and binding them to the deal. Anthony didn’t even need the clarification or confirmation over what had happened; he simply looked at himself and assumed, “You have silenced me?”

“Yes.”

“I suppose you would not want this aired to others,” the other man remarked sarcastically. “The slander that such knowledge would inspire, _Prince_.”

Loki narrowed his eyes, but before he could growl or threaten with the punishment due for such impudence, the other Aesir gave a mocking half bow and added, “But no one will hear either of our words, so I suppose we may say what we like, Prince Loki?”

“I don’t have to admit your words to have you punished,” Loki hissed warningly. 

Anthony smiled with teeth. “How I’m sure you’d rather punish me in the privacy of your _chambers_.”

The blatancy of the statement was enough to shock Loki that his mask momentarily dropped. It was only for a heartbeat but he didn’t know how much it showed and he hurried to pull it back up again. Anthony’s eyes, though, were sharp and calculating and some of the hostility ( _feigned, you fool_ ) had fled.

It left them both in silence: Loki not sure how to respond and Anthony watching him like a puzzle.

Anthony broke it, some moments later, moving to ask a far more honest question than before, one that was full of curiosity and befuddlement, “Why in the Norns do you want this?”

 _I will never answer that_ , Loki thought. _I can never tell you why._

“You have two days,” Loki told him instead. “And I recommend that you remember that, even should you agree, I am still your Prince and will not accept or tolerate your disrespect.”

Anthony smiled darkly. “I shall make a point of kneeling for you then, Prince Loki.”

Loki’s stomach twisted and his heart throbbed at the images those words inspired. He kept it from his face only barely and forced himself to give a tight nod before leaving the way he had come - with a teleport that took him back to the solitude and safety of his chambers.

It was in the privacy of his rooms that Loki let himself slump and rest his face in the palm of his hand.

 _I am such a fool_ , he told himself - for how in the realms was he meant to form any connection with Anthony _now?_ Oh, he’d known it was no more than a fantasy to imagine anything warm or affectionate between them - let alone to imagine something _more_.

It would never come about. He had _nothing_. 

\- nothing but a proposition Anthony may or may not accept and one night with a man who would only resent Loki for the payment that he was requesting.

 _Yet... it is such a common means of sealing deals_. He saw it every day when men and women were married for alliances, when they brokered their bodies for money and places to sleep. Why was this any different?

 _Because you want so much more from him_ , his mind whispered. _And yet, to him, you will only ever be the despicable second Prince, who asked him for something he never offered._

It made Loki laugh abruptly, harsh and pained as he whispered to no one, “And how _despised_ I must be to him now.”

He almost didn’t want to go see Anthony in two nights. Surely a wordless rejection would be better than one that was spoken to his face?

How had he convinced himself this was a good idea? That he had a chance of getting what he wanted?

He should have known better.

* * *

Truthfully, Loki didn’t expect to hear from Anthony at all.

He expected their discussion would be a testament to his folly and nothing more. He hardly anticipated or believed that the evening given in their original deal would be the one where Anthony came to him.

Loki had been in his chambers, lounging with a book and in simple attire. His mind had been wandering however, drifting to Anthony as it had been doing since he’d given his proposal. He’d been wondering what Anthony had decided - if he _had_ come to a conclusion yet. He had tried to stop himself from thinking about what would happen if Anthony came to him and said _yes_. Loki wanted to imagine it as the passionate, fiery affair of his fantasies, but he knew it would likely be too clinical, too _disinterested_ on Anthony’s part. 

In his darker moments, he wondered why he didn’t just content himself with illusions and clones - why he had to involve the _man_ and wreck the fantasy. He wondered why he had to project the image to Anthony that he gave to all the other Aesir: that Loki was nothing more than the mercurial and hateful Prince. Why he couldn’t just... just be honest and confess?

Yet that scared him far more than being seen by Anthony as a twisted, dominating creature. He knew how to take another’s hate and discomfort towards a persona that wasn’t truly _him_ , but having Anthony know Loki and his... _feelings_ and reject them? Reject _him?_ It hurt Loki to contemplate and made a cowardly, deeply buried part of himself want to run and hide.

He wasn’t proud of it, but it was easier to demand that Anthony sleep with him in payment than to try and court the weaponsmith and to let himself be so... exposed.

Frigga would have told him to have faith and to believe someone could love Loki for who he was. It was one of the many reasons he would _not_ tell her about Anthony or any of his dark, dishonourable plans. There were some aspects of his life and personality that his mother didn’t need to know about. He had disappointed her enough; he wouldn’t let her find out about this.

Even if Anthony declined him, the spell had at least guaranteed that no one else would know of Loki’s shame or of Anthony’s rejection.

Closing his eyes, Loki tilted his head back on his seat and let the hand holding his book fall over the side of the chair. The spine of the tome brushed the floor as he relaxed. Loki tried not to think about what would have been happening tonight if Anthony had acquiesced to his original timeframe’s deadline and accepted.

Loki had truly... truly thought he was attractive enough that it would have been of little hardship for Anthony to agree to bed him. Anthony had taken whores for a night or two of pleasure before this; Loki knew he had little concern for the exchange of monetary compensation for carnal activities. Loki just...

But Loki’s thoughts trailed off at the sound of knocking on his chamber doors. Sliding his eyes open to slits, he’d absently sent a soft pulse of magic to check and see who was visiting him. He had expected a servant but had dropped the book and sat upright at sensing _Anthony’s_ energy in the hall.

His mouth went dry as he stared at the barred door. When he heard another knock strike the heavy wood, he quickly stood and took several steps closer. He froze, however, and quickly glanced around the room, sending magic to right the few untidy areas. He winced at his attire but knew it would look ridiculous to change into something formal so late in the evening. He had no choice but to accept the other dressed the way he was.

Loki made it all the way to the door before a second, more worrying thought occurred to him; he stilled, his heart feeling like the winters of Jotunheim had swept through it. _What if he is coming to say **no**?_

 _If he is_ , he told himself silently, _then you can do nothing but accept it as Anthony’s answer._

Grasping the door’s handle, Loki didn’t let himself think any further on the worry as he composed himself and pulled the door, opening it wide.

“Anthony,” he greeted with a calmness that didn’t match the racing of his heart. “After agreeing to your extension of the timeframe, I had not expected to see you so soon.”

“Yes,” Anthony answered, not quite meeting Loki’s eyes as he scowled down at the floor, his shoulders stiff. “May I enter?”

Loki could do nothing but stand aside and let him in. Anthony had never stepped foot in his chambers, but he didn’t even glance at Loki’s furnishings. He turned on his heel once Loki had shut the door and promptly demanded, “I want the name of the one who sabotaged me.”

Loki blinked. “I told you I will not-”

“Upfront,” Anthony clarified in a tight voice before taking a step closer until they were almost touching. He held Loki’s eyes. “You tell me that tonight, _now_. You make the problem _disappear_ in a way that does not reflect badly on me nor can be traced back to you or _retracted_ when we are concluded. When those terms are done to my satisfaction-” Anthony swallowed and his eyes mimicked Loki’s the other night, trailing down Loki’s body from head to toe. “Then you will have my acceptance to this proposition.”

Loki swallowed, his eyes widening slightly. It was the only visible reaction beyond his fluttering pulse and his incredulous murmur, “... you agree to the terms.”

“You will complete my requirements of you and do so without a hint of _mischief_ or _trickery_. You will _bind_ us if that is what it takes to keep you from-”

“I assure you,” Loki interrupted the other quickly and with a slight bite to his voice, “you will get what you wish from your side of this bargain. I will not lie or cheat you in it.”

“Good,” Anthony told him, with tight eyes. “Because you will not get _yours_ until I am certain of that.”

Those words finally shifted Loki away from his shock, his thrumming elation and the nearly desperate need to _touch_ the man in front of him. It was Loki’s turn to frown with suspicion. “And what will your certainty rely on?”

“The successful continuation of my livelihood.”

“And that will-”

Loki fell silent when Anthony’s hand came and pressed against his chest. Anthony pushed back slightly, just enough that Loki’s shoulders settled against the wood of the door. Anthony then stepped closer and into Loki’s personal space, his breath brushing lightly over Loki’s lips. “You have slipped your way out of deals before; I will not have you slip out of _this_ one, my Prince. You will get your side of this bargain if I get _mine_.”

“And what do I get while I pull the strings needed to appease you and your livelihood?” Loki breathed, his eyes dropping to Anthony’s mouth - so very, very close to his own.

He saw it twitch into the smallest of smirks. “What is the term others use...? - ah, yes, a down payment, I suppose.”

Loki didn’t get a chance to respond before Anthony moved closer still. His mouth slid hotly over Loki’s as his leg moved between Loki’s thighs. His hands came up on instinct to grip Anthony’s hair and tug the strands lightly until Anthony leaned in and their torsos pressed together. He groaned at the weight and feel of the weaponsmith against him and licked at Anthony’s mouth, gaining easy acceptance and tangling his tongue with the other Aesir’s.

It was everything Loki had fantasised of.

Loki didn’t know how long they kissed, but it felt like both hours and moments before Anthony pulled back, panting against Loki’s jaw but avoiding Loki’s mouth when he tried to seek Anthony out again. His eyes opened to find Anthony grinning with slightly flushed cheeks and a dark gaze.

“They _did_ say you were Silver-tongued.”

Loki sent him a withering glare, but it faded as Anthony pulled away from him completely. Anthony straightened his slightly mussed clothing and ran fingers through his hair. “I won’t be back, not until your part of this is completed. I want the name.”

Loki’s hands _burned_ to haul Anthony back in and against him, but his common sense kept him from moving. It was nothing more than a transaction, a _deal_ and he had no right to pull Anthony towards him until he proved he could fulfil what he had promised. It frustrated Loki and made his chest _ache_ for everything he couldn’t have, but Loki swallowed it down and gave Anthony a nod. 

Pushing himself away from the door so that it was no longer blocked, he provided Anthony with the first of what he was promised. “A woman from Alfheim named Alvida was the cause. The rest of your request will be done in the morning.”

Anthony’s eyes had turned hard and calculating at the name, but the rest of Loki’s words made him give a barking half laugh. His eyes then dropped to the front of Loki’s pants before back up again where he smirked at the other man. “Keen are you, Prince?”

Loki glared, if only to hide how flustered he felt at the remark. “I uphold my commitments.”

“Hmm,” Anthony hummed thoughtfully in reply, the furious fire in his veins briefly banked. “Well, when I am sure of that claim and your accuracy in the name is confirmed, I will be back.” He stepped over to the door and pulled it opened. Anthony was half outside Loki’s chambers when he paused and turned to give a formal bow, looking up at Loki from beneath his eyelashes. “Thank you, Prince Loki.”

He was gone moments later and the door shut behind him. Loki leaned heavily against it, his forehead pressed to the wood as his mind recalled the wet heat of Anthony’s mouth with perfect clarity. He wanted it, wanted _more_. The memory was so sharp and the heat of desire still running through his veins. Loki debated whether to take himself in hand - or to focus on his side of the deal in order to return Anthony to his side.

In the end, it didn’t take him long to make his decision and to give in to temptation. He created the phantom feeling of palms against his chest and a whisper against his ear as he slipped a hand underneath the fabric of his clothes. 

Loki did his best to pretend it was more than what it truly was while biting down firmly on his moans. After all, taking his pleasure from an actual memory could hardly be worse now, after kissing Anthony, than before when Loki had never even had that.

* * *

The next day, as promised, Loki sorted out Anthony’s problem.

It wasn’t all that difficult; he’d had it planned from the moment he’d presented the offer to Anthony. He hadn’t wanted to risk failing to follow through if Anthony had said yes and, with the memory of the kiss driving him, Loki had barely let the sun rise before he was putting his machinations into motion.

It meant publicly shaming the one responsible for the situation at large, manipulating things to cause tension between a few members of the Alfheim court, and the potential end to a marriage (the betrothal being the cause of the problem and an issue unrelated to Anthony beyond mere unfortunate luck). Loki hadn’t been bothered by the consequences of his manipulations as long as it left Anthony and his reputation unscathed and Loki’s side of the deal satisfactorily performed.

When it was completed, Loki didn’t go to Anthony’s workshop; he knew better than to do that. Loki instead _watched_ the other Aesir. He watched Anthony’s friends hear about everything being straightened out - the secrets spilling and rumours flying. Anthony’s friends took him to a tavern, slapping his back and purchasing him tankard after tankard of liquor. Loki ended up standing in the corner, unseen by all but the man he was doing this for.

Anthony, to his credit, hadn’t taken long to sense that someone was watching him and to scan the establishment with narrowed eyes. He’d found Loki and locked their gazes. Loki had raised his eyebrows and Anthony’s mouth had curled into smirk that Loki couldn’t quantify before giving a thin incline of his head and turning away from Loki and back to his friends.

Loki hadn’t pressed the matter, not yet--not so soon. Anthony had made his plans for the arrangement clear and, while Loki wouldn’t let him take complete liberties, he was willing to be... flexible in what he allowed.

The thought alone of what was to come was enough to make Loki’s breath quicken and his pulse race. A small part of him was grateful for the delay; he _needed_ the delay to be able get his mind around the idea: the knowledge that Anthony would be back in Loki’s chambers any day now, kissing him and allowing himself to be pressed into the bed.

Yes, waiting did have its advantages... at least for the first few days.

But by week’s end, the mage’s worries numbered far greater than any potential benefits he may have gained. Because the fact remained that Loki _hadn’t_ bound them both to the deal; he hadn’t thought to. Instead, he’d merely... solved the problem and only realised afterwards that, while Anthony had verbally agreed, there was nothing to make the other Aesir stick to his word.

-because Loki found he simply wouldn’t be able to make Anthony uphold it if the other declined him now. It was true that Loki would be furious and hurt. He’d feel mortified for letting himself be tricked so easily, but he wouldn’t make Anthony complete their bargain. He would get his _revenge_ , yes, but he would still accept Anthony’s refusal to spend a night with him.

He would _never_ force Anthony to do that.

He just... didn’t know how long to wait. It had been over a week since Loki had fulfilled his portion of their agreement and, as he did every night since completing his side of it, Loki whiled away the hours inside his chambers, pacing or attempting to practice his magic.

Frigga was concerned about his sudden withdrawal, Thor had hardly noticed, and Odin wouldn’t have cared even if he’d paid enough attention to notice the change in behaviour. Loki made his excuses to his mother or avoided the conversation entirely. She only smiled at him sadly, knowing he didn’t wish for her help, but wanting to give it anyway. At the sight of that smile, Loki usually took her hands and kissed her cheek, silently thanking her and trying to use the distraction of her presence to keep his eyes off Anthony - what he was doing, who he was with, _if_ he would be coming tonight.

Loki knew he’d need to demand an answer soon; he couldn’t stand staying in limbo for much longer. He knew the silence of the spell would protect most of his reactions from being widely known, but Loki knew that _Anthony_ would see it. He would see Loki’s desperation, see his _desire_ , and forever know that Loki wanted him.

The thought made Loki’s skin crawl - to want and be rejected. He would rather suffer in silence than see the power in Anthony’s eyes every time they crossed paths in the future.

He’d been debating the very idea of just appearing in Anthony’s shop and _forcing_ an answer from him. To find a way to have some kind of power over a situation he suddenly felt helpless in. He just needed to see the other man, to gain an idea of Anthony’s thoughts, to gain another _kiss_ or even a refusal - something, Loki just needed _something_.

Sighing, Loki had stopped the absent, jerky pacing he’d unconsciously shifted to and closed his eyes. He sent out his magic, intending to find Anthony and see where he was, who he was currently _with_... but snapped his eyes open at feeling the weaponsmith making his way towards Loki’s chambers. Anthony was coming _here_.

There was a long moment where Loki didn’t know what to do. However, feeling the hum of the other coming closer with every step had him hurriedly washing a quick spell over his chambers to make sure they were presentable. His rooms had no doors and were merely interconnected to one another; it meant that Loki’s belongings were sprawled throughout the expansive rooms. It also meant that Loki could see his bedding from the living quarters, which made him swallow thickly and think of Anthony joining him in them. 

_It’s what you want_ ; he told himself when he felt a sliver of apprehension. _It’s what he has agreed to._

And he did want Anthony so much - enough that he had hardly been able to tear his thoughts away from imagining the taste of his skin, the sound of his moans... the image of him languidly spread out in Loki’s bed and waiting to be pleasured... He’d had fantasies of Anthony kneeling for him in this very room, of Anthony teasingly pinning Loki to the bed and riding him until they both came. 

He had softer wants, as well; of kissing Anthony in the morning slow, lazy, and with nowhere else to be, of curling up against the head of their bed at night and having Anthony resting against Loki’s chest, wrapped in his arms. Loki had so many things he wanted and only one evening to get his chance at any of them.

Pulling in a breath, Loki shook off his concerns, his reservations, and his _feelings_. Anthony knew that Loki desired him physically. He didn’t need to - _couldn’t_ \- know about the rest. Loki used those final moments before Anthony knocked on the door to lock those vulnerable emotions up tightly, refusing to let them out until long after Anthony would leave him.

They both knew why Anthony was here; they both knew what this was. Loki wouldn’t make it into anything more or less than what it would ever be: a deal presented to Anthony when his livelihood was at stake and few other options were available. With that reminder at the forefront of his mind, Loki waited until he received the first knock before he gripped the handle of the door and pulled it open for the other to enter.

His eyes trailed over Anthony as he stepped through the gap and came inside. Anthony was dressed casually in simple linen pants and a tunic. He still looked handsome - Anthony always did, after all - and Loki let himself look his fill. When he eventually brought his eyes up to Anthony's shrewd gaze it was to find himself being watched very carefully. 

“You fulfilled your part,” Anthony told him.

Loki’s cheek twitched. It was the only hint of his unhappiness at the reminder of the nature of their affair. “I did.”

Anthony splayed his hands at his sides. “Then, for a night, you have me.”

Taking a measured step closer, Loki found himself circling Anthony, seeing not a hint of discomfort or tension even as Anthony continued to stare straight ahead as Loki lingered near his back. “You are pleased then, with my results?”

“I cannot find fault in them nor see how you can change them now,” Anthony answered with a shrug. “You’ve upheld your end, so I will uphold mine.”

Back where he started and in front of Anthony, Loki reached out and placed his palm on Anthony’s chest before sliding it down, his fingertips splaying over the centre of the other man’s chest. He then curled his fingers, catching possessively on the fabric. “Then, from this moment forward, you will not speak of the night’s terms.”

Anthony’s eyebrows rose as he tilted his head quizzically. “Oh?”

Loki stepped closer and tugged on the fabric he held captured between his fingers, forcing Anthony to lean in against the length of Loki’s body. Their mouths brushed - they were so close - but Loki didn’t try and coax the touch into a deeper kiss, no matter how sorely he was tempted. “You’re spending this evening with me. The specifics are not necessary.”

“Oh? Easier to enjoy the night when your deal is not on your mind?”

Loki’s hand fisted tighter and he clenched his teeth at the words. He knew he should have expected as much, that Anthony wouldn’t have let his request occur so simply - but Loki wanted his illusions, his slight lies. _It is easier if he seems to want you too._

“You set your own terms; I set mine,” Loki snapped, angrier with himself than with the other Aesir. “Do you understand?”

“As you wish, Prince,” Anthony murmured before tilting his chin upwards just enough for their mouths to touch a little harder. Loki moaned softly in response: he couldn’t stop it even as his eyes fell closed, pressing nearer and into Anthony’s solid weight.

The kiss was so terribly easy to fall into from there.

Anthony’s mouth was hot and talented against his own, pushing back challengingly and far from passive. Loki’s other hand curled into Anthony’s hair as he tilted his head to find the best angle for them both and let their tongues meet for the second time. There was no end to this kiss, no forced stop beyond the need for air and, this time, when Loki growled and pulled the other Aesir back into another, Anthony didn’t resist him.

Loki kissed him more times than he could count, only stopping when Anthony laughed and moved his mouth away. The sound shot warmth through Loki’s chest and made his hand spasm from where it had moved from Anthony’s chest to under his shirt.

“Do you not want me on the bed, my Prince?” Anthony’s eyes were dark and his face flushed. “Or on my knees? I did promise you that, did I not, Loki?”

Loki let out a shuddering breath at both ideas, but pulled his hands away from Anthony’s body to grab the other man’s arm, tugging him further into the opulent chambers and towards the bed. Anthony didn’t resist, although he did question almost idly: “I have wondered how you will have me.”

Shutting his eyes briefly, Loki pretended there was more to the words than the consideration of a deal - rather, he imagined that it was a fantasy Anthony had conceived of and pleasured himself to when alone.

“I will have you however I wish to,” Loki finally answered roughly. It was his attempt at a statement of dominance and detachment despite his predominant desire being to simply lie on top of Anthony, kissing and marking him until Anthony cried out Loki’s name, begging his prince for more.

When they reached the bed, Loki turned and cupped Anthony’s neck to pull him into another, brief kiss before stepping back to imperiously command, “Strip from your clothing.”

Anthony’s eyebrows rose, but he complied with the other man’s order by placing his hands at the hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. Loki stood with his fingers clenched behind his back to keep from touching as he watched each bit of skin get revealed, as he _memorized_ what Anthony looked like to hold onto in evenings to come.

The shirt fell to the floor and Anthony paused for a moment--as if trying to gauge what Loki would do next. When he didn’t come any closer, Anthony gave a half shrug before sitting on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes. Task accomplished, Anthony then stood once more and moved his hands to his pants but stopped again when Loki spoke. 

“Wait.”

Anthony paused to glance at him, and Loki slowly made his way over. Loki lifted his left hand and placed his palm flat on Anthony’s stomach; the muscles clenched reflexively but were otherwise relaxed as Loki lightly drew his hand up to Anthony’s chest, mapping the area and enjoying the strength contained within the smaller man’s physique.

This time, Loki _did_ let himself give in to temptation as his fingers brushed over Anthony’s nipples; they tightened and Anthony’s next exhale was just the slightest bit heavier. Placing his hand below Anthony’s left nipple, Loki curled it around Anthony’s side. He then brushed his thumb over the sensitive bud as he moved in to kiss the other Aesir once more - unable to get enough of the mouth that he’d wanted for so long.

He kept the movements of his thumb going the entire time and brought his free hand up to cup Anthony’s other side and give it and his nipple the same treatment. It was Loki who broke them apart in the end, wanting _more_... wanting something tangible as he brushed his mouth down Anthony’s jaw and throat before finally settling on the other man’s neck to lightly mouth at the skin.

When Loki sucked a little harder, he felt Anthony’s hands settle over his hips with a small, hitched breath the only other reaction the other man gave. Loki didn’t focus on that; instead, he continued to place bright red marks with a vindictive desire for _proof_ , some sort of sign that Anthony had been in his arms and _his_ bed.

He found his hands moving, too, grasping Anthony’s wrists and sliding them up his body and under his shirt - wanting Anthony to touch him and be an active participant in their night together. 

Loki didn’t know that it would be that movement which would make Anthony pull away from him.

He couldn’t stop the small whine of displeasure he released at having his mouth broken from Anthony’s skin but, when Anthony’s hands caught the edge of his tunic and lifted, Loki had no choice but to concede his hold on the other and let the item come over his head and drop to the floor.

Loki had planned to continue his work on the other side of Anthony’s neck, but Anthony ducked down and his mouth found Loki’s collarbone; it wasn’t a kiss - nothing so affectionate or intimate - his mouth just trailed down over pale skin until he could suck Loki’s nipple into his mouth. Loki groaned out something almost pained and reached for the back of Anthony’s head, holding him in place as his eyes fluttered shut in pleasure.

His hold wasn’t strong enough to keep Anthony there and the willingly offered bit of pleasure didn’t last long enough to satisfy - nor did Anthony move to his other, neglected nipple. He gave the bud one last, flat swipe of his tongue before he pulled completely back and away. Anthony actually shook off Loki’s hold before he stripped the remainder of his clothing and climbed onto the prince’s bed.

It was done with thoughtless disregard, the casual dismissal of any further chance Loki had to savour this moment, to _undress_ Anthony - because the other was already there, naked on the bed and expectant. Anthony even followed his unintentionally cruel gesture with a quirked eyebrow and an impatient, “Well, come here.”

 _Shall we get it over with?_ Loki’s mind added mockingly, overlaying the words with what Anthony meant and likely wanted to say instead.

Loki closed his eyes and swallowed before looking away from the other, jerkily removing the last of his clothing while feeling some of his arousal dim at the reminder of what this night meant to Anthony. When he was finished, Loki moved to join the other and took a few seconds to admire the other man’s aroused, beautiful form - and Anthony _was_ aroused. It bolstered Loki a little so that, when he was kneeling in front of the other, Loki kissed him again.

Anthony broke the embrace to laugh and grin. “You like to kiss, don’t you, Prince?”

Loki went to respond, but Anthony was shifting back and away before turning so his back was facing Loki. “Shall we not get to the part that you want? The part that I am here for?”

 _You are here to just... be mine_ , Loki admitted in the privacy of his mind, _for a little while_.

“Of course,” Loki answered quietly, watching as Anthony moved his hands to the bed before presenting himself. His cock was hard between his legs as he rested on his hands and knees, his ass before Loki and ready for his fingers, mouth, or cock.

It was everything he wanted - and yet: nothing at all. There was no romance, no intimacy, no way for Loki to express what he truly wanted or to gain reciprocal affection even if he did.

 _Make it enough_ , he warned himself, _or you will lose the enjoyment of the little you do have._

Turning away from Anthony, he grabbed the required oils from his bedside drawers before coming back to the other man. He placed his hand at the middle of Anthony’s back, then slid it down his spine to feel the curve of each bone while a fine shiver ran through Anthony’s body.

When he reached Anthony’s tailbone, Loki had to resist the strong urge to replace his palm with his lips: to press a delicate kiss there before trailing up the path his hand had explored. But Loki knew further intimacy - further _time_ \- together would invite confusion or worse. It might invite further requests from Anthony to speed things along. Loki might have wanted to savour every moment, but Anthony didn’t. Loki could try to pretend, at least, to trick himself into believing it was merely anticipation of what was to come that stole Anthony’s patience. ******

Taking his hand from the other’s skin, Loki poured some oil onto his fingers before putting down the vial. He brought his hands to Anthony’s entrance and slowly spread his cheeks, taking a moment to simply admire the picture the other displayed; spread out and accepting of Loki. 

Loki swallowed, brushing a finger against Anthony’s entrance before slowly pressing it inside. Anthony’s breath left him in a rush and the other man dropped down even further, resting on his elbows and spreading his legs for easier access to his body. The display made Loki bite his lip in sharp want and curl his finger, stretching Anthony carefully before adding in a second when he was sure the other was ready. Anthony let out a soft moan before pressing back against the digits inside of him. 

Loki _adored_ the small sounds, the breathless moans and hitched gasps as Loki prepared him thoroughly. It was towards the end that Loki wasn’t even trying to stretch Anthony any longer; instead he was thrusting his fingers inside and searching for a specific spot. When Anthony cried out and his whole body jerked forward from pleasure, Loki knew he had found it. 

He smirked and searched it out a second time, now knowing where to curve his fingers to get the reaction he desired. This time Anthony _whined_ , low and desperate, and ground back against the fingers. Loki found himself chuckling at the neediness of the sound and finally pulled his fingers out. He also didn’t stop to think as he bent down to press his lips to Anthony’s lower back.

He froze with his eyes wide and his mouth against Anthony’s skin: his heart was beating widely in his chest over the tellingness of the gesture. He pulled back a moment later, not knowing what to expect from the other, but Anthony just moaned a little and squirmed on the bed. “ _Loki_.”

That single word, that _moan_ of his name made his fears, his hopes, his _feelings_ disappear in a tidal wave of pure lust. Loki let out a growl and caught Anthony’s hips, angling the other man for better ease and access--feeling Anthony follow his directions without complaint. It took the matter of moments to slick himself with oil and line himself up to begin pressing inside Anthony’s spread entrance. 

They both groaned at the feeling and Loki panted as he kept pressing inside, the heat and tightness of Anthony’s body stealing the breath from his lungs until he was fully sheathed within the other and half leaning on Anthony, gasping greedily for air. Anthony’s body was tense beneath Loki’s own; his face was half visible, his eyes closed and face tight with pleasure with his teeth-bitten lips parted on a soundless moan.

He clenched suddenly - probably deliberately, knowing the other man - and Loki moaned, gripping Anthony’s hips tightly even as he thrust forward automatically. The movement made Anthony press back against him, chasing the pleasure as he twisted his fingers in the sheets.

Loki, however, just wanted to be _closer_.

He reached an arm down, wrapping it around Anthony’s chest before encouraging him up and _back_. It took a minute or so and Anthony had to open his eyes and assist but, when he resettled, the new position had Anthony’s back to Loki’s front and made Loki slip in a bit deeper. They both couldn’t control voicing their pleasure at the feeling and, slowly, Loki began to rock up and into Anthony.

It only took a few thrusts before Anthony tilted his head back, resting it against Loki’s shoulder as he gasped and squirmed. His hand was clenched tightly over Loki’s hip as he panted desperately under his breath, “Come on, come on.”

Loki knew what he was searching for and continually shifted the angle of his thrusts; when he found just the right place, Anthony let out a throaty noise that would fill Loki’s every future fantasy. His whole body also spasmed and made Loki grit his teeth to silence his own reaction. He ended up tilting his own head forward, pressing his lips to Anthony’s shoulder and neck to mouth at the skin as he continually pressed into Anthony.

Sometimes, Loki would deliberately aim wrong, enjoying the frustrated, almost soundless whine Anthony would make in reply. The weaponsmith would always welcome him so much more readily on the next thrust, hoping for what he craved—and Loki would almost always let him receive it.

The position they were in let Loki hear every noise, no matter how small, from Anthony’s mouth and he relished it. Loki adored the shivers and the beautiful tightening of Anthony’s muscles whenever Loki brushed Anthony’s prostate to send pleasure shooting through his nerves. He licked at a small bead of sweat sliding down Anthony’s neck before opening his eyes to look down his lover’s chest.

Anthony’s cock was hard and curving against his stomach, weeping and untouched. Loki wished he could taste it but knew he wouldn’t be given the chance. Instead, he settled for moving the hand still wrapped around Anthony’s chest until he could lightly grip the base of Anthony’s cock. The other Aesir moaned, low and almost pained as Loki stroked it slow and firm.

“Ah, _Norns_ ,” Anthony moaned, seeming to curve even further backwards so that Loki could both stroke and fuck into him. The position made it hard for Loki to go very fast, but he enjoyed that slow speed to their ever-growing pleasure.

“Say who I am,” Loki hissed, trailing his mouth up Anthony’s neck to press to his ear. “Say who is pleasuring you.”

Anthony groaned lowly, before saying on his next breath, “ _Loki_.”

Loki’s eyes closed and pressed his lips together tightly to hold back his pleased moan. He also needed to keep control on himself and his reaction at hearing Anthony brokenly call his name.

“ _Again_ ,” he demanded before stroking Anthony once more, rubbing his thumb roughly over the tip of Anthony’s cock.

It made Anthony jerk in response and it was enough to make him chant Loki’s name interspersed between his groans and whines. The sounds made arousal pool low in Loki’s stomach - and made him increase his thrusts, attempting both depth and increasing his rhythm, chasing something that was quickly coming within reach.

 _Say who you belong to_ , were the next words on Loki’s tongue, but he pressed his mouth to Anthony’s neck and lightly bit the skin to keep them sealed inside. It was that first scrape of his teeth that made Anthony’s mouth fall open and his cock twitch violently in Loki’s grip, leaking from the head.

It surprised Loki - but also made him smirk. He opened his eyes, timing his movements so that, on a particularly deep and well _aimed_ snap of his hips, he used that new knowledge to bite down on Anthony’s shoulder. Loki was rewarded for his actions by a sudden shout and the feel of Anthony’s cock spasming in his hand as he orgasmed.

It was the tightening of his channel and a few more rapid thrusts that sent Loki careening just as blissfully over the edge, his mouth releasing its hold on Anthony as he shuddered and moaned.

They stayed where they were, panting and recovering for who knew how many moments. Eventually, Anthony was the first to move, nudging at Loki’s arm until he released Anthony’s flaccid cock. Anthony then levered himself off and away from the other man, not quite collapsing on the bed, but leaning back on his elbows and facing Loki as his breathing slowly evened out. 

****** Loki’s own legs felt stiff from the position he had been maintaining and he carefully moved to recline in a similar sprawl beside, but not touching, Anthony.

It was with a resigned sort of depression that the situation was falling back around Loki, sucking the last of his bliss from him.

-because he’d had Anthony: his kisses, his touches, his _body_ \- but what Loki had gained was now over and once again out of his reach.

Anthony only cemented that conclusion by being the first to break the silence and remark, “Was that what you wanted, Prince?”

Loki flicked his eyes to the other man’s; they were narrowed and assessing, trying to puzzle out the answer to his own question. _Have I upheld my end of the bargain?_

Loki dropped his eyes to Anthony’s chest, to the area inside him that Loki wanted more than anything, and the place he’d long since reconciled himself to never owning. His mouth twitched bitterly, but he answered honestly enough, “It was what I asked.”

Anthony’s mind was trying to parse it out, to look for any hidden meanings in the prince’s words, but Loki pulled away before he could. He wrapped the heartless image around himself that Anthony was used to seeing and expected to find. He motioned towards his bathing chambers. “You may clean yourself, if you wish.”

Anthony let out a harsh laugh. “That simple, is it, Prince?”

Loki narrowed his eyes. “Would you rather we curl into each other and spend the night together?” The words were almost spat, angrier at himself for wanting it than Anthony for asking. “I know what this is to you, and I’m allowing you to leave now that you’ve fulfilled your portion of the bargain.”

“Your courtesy knows no bounds,” Anthony answered, with a hint of something mocking before he stood. “But I _will_ take your offer.”

He didn’t say anything further: just grabbed his discarded clothing and headed to the room directed. Loki didn’t watch him leave; he had more sense than that - because if Loki watched him, Loki might be tempted to follow him.

When Anthony was free from sight, Loki allowed himself a few moments to just close his eyes. The enjoyment of his orgasm was already turning bitter in the face of Anthony’s abrupt attempts to distance himself. Touching Anthony, kissing him - it was all a memory and the longing for more, the urge to kiss him again... Loki had no one to blame but himself.

_You like to kiss, don’t you, Prince?_

Loki turned away from both the remembered commentary and the faint sounds of water that came from Anthony bathing, of washing away his relations with Loki. The marks would remain for a few days, physical reminders that Anthony would likely hide from both Loki and from others.

Picking up his own clothing, Loki used magic to give himself a perfunctory cleaning before sliding into his clothes. He pulled himself into the soft linen as if he was pulling on his armour for battle. He had to at least attempt to prove to Anthony that he felt nothing beyond satisfied pleasure from the evening - that he wasn’t feeling the beginnings of regret filling his every bone.

Loki had barely finished redressing before he heard Anthony pad back into the room. He turned instantly, his fingers twitching with the desire to run through Anthony’s slightly damp hair. But the mage held himself still.

He kept his face blank as he watched Anthony take a seat at the edge of the bed to pull on his shoes quickly and ignoring Loki’s presence as if he was but one more piece of furniture in the prince’s chambers. Loki kept his eyes on the other, watching as Anthony fixed his clothing before standing. Anthony started to leave, to brush past him, but Loki darted out his hand and gripped Anthony’s arm before the other man could move too far away. The shorter Aesir’s confused eyes flicked up to hold his own.

Loki knew it was a mistake; he knew it would only hurt him in every conceivable way... but.

“Should you have another issue for me to solve,” Loki began, quiet but firm. “You know my price.”

Anthony looked genuinely surprised at the offer, but puzzlement swiftly shone brighter. His words were almost laughed, though, incredulous and uncomprehending. “You would make this a standing offer?”

“I would,” Loki told him, serious and unflinching.

It wiped the little humour from Anthony’s face - only for his perplexity to grow. When he didn’t seem to find any answers in Loki’s expression, Anthony shook off his hold and Loki let him. “Thank you, Prince, but I prefer to make my own solutions.”

The rejection nearly made Loki recoil, but he knew better than to show that reaction. He simply stepped back smoothly and let Anthony make his way out of Loki’s chambers unhindered.

It was only when he was alone, when Anthony’s energy signature was far from his rooms, that Loki allowed himself to slump down and sit on the edge of his bed. He found himself staring at the floor and feeling every bit the fool.

_I will now always think of him on this bed, and calling for my touch._

Loki knew such a situation would be unlikely to happen again and that he would never purposefully orchestrate it… but Loki still found himself frantically wishing that some new problem would fall into Anthony’s path. That there would be something that Anthony would come to him to solve.

He wanted Anthony to walk into his rooms again, knowing Loki’s price and asking for it anyway.

Loki wanted it - but he also knew better.

He let his fingers touch the bedding that Anthony had so recently laid with him on and let the knowledge rest heavy on his shoulders: the knowledge that Anthony would never make that deal with him ever again.

Loki had gained him once, but would never get the chance to touch, taste, or _have_ Anthony another time. 

And he had no one to blame for it but himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALL THE LOKI PAIN XD
> 
> Are you surprised? It is me, after all. Nevertheless, I hope you liked the story, the sex~ and the premise. This story was a lot of fun to write since I'd wanted to do a longer Asgardian!Tony work for aaaages. I did find it kind of hilarious though, considering I never used to write such M-rated stories. Ah well. That's out the window as there is an M rated scene in every chapter, heh, so maybe flag this one to _not_ read at work? *grins*
> 
> But thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoy!!
> 
>  **EDIT:** THE FABULOUS NOVARAIN IS AT IT AGAIN! They drew some (slightly NSFW) art for this chapter and it can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/25620969). So go check it out and send them some love! They deserve all that they can get ♥
> 
>  
> 
> **AND NOW A SECOND EDIT BECAUSE KSDKSNFDKS SHE DREW MORE. SHE DREW _TONY_ AND WITH A CHIBI LOKI AND OMG. IT'S JUST FUCKING BEAUTIFUL. HOLYFUCK. [CHECK THIS OUT. IT'S PERFECT](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11433804/chapters/25686822)**
> 
>  
> 
> **AND A _THIRD_ EDIT BECAUSE THE AWESOME OF ENDER_ROCK COLOURED NOVARAIN'S LINE ART AND THAT IS FOUND [HERE](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11492586). GOSH TALK ABOUT BEING SURROUNDED BY TALENTED, AMAZING PEOPLE. ♥ THANK YOU SO MUCH!!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are we all ready for some more Loki pain? Come on, you know you are... ;)

His deal with Anthony and their subsequent night together was months ago, and Loki had long since given up expecting or even _hoping_ that Anthony would seek him out for another dalliance.

Anthony’s silence about the renewal of his offer had been maintained - Loki’s spell had seen to that - but it didn’t stop the way that Anthony stared at him the few times they’d seen each other since then. Anthony watched him with a dark frown and eyes that were filled with uncertainty and confusion. Loki pretended that he didn’t notice. 

It was easier to keep his eyes from Anthony’s - to try to focus himself on _anyone_ but the other. It was easier than looking at the weaponsmith and remembering Anthony’s face twisted in pleasure, to envision the body underneath Anthony’s clothes and to want nothing more than to touch, taste, and kiss the warm skin again.

Yes. Loki did his best to avoid Anthony whenever he could.

It was harder for the mage to avoid his thoughts when he was alone; in the quiet and privacy of his chambers, it was far too easy to remember Anthony standing at the foot of the bed and kissing him, to picture all the ways the night could have ended - the places and positions they could have used to heighten their pleasure other than chest to back on the bed. Loki often found himself digging his fingers into his eyes, cursing himself for his stupidity and for wallowing in useless memories.

He’d had his taste of the other and this was the penance he now needed to live with.

It was when Loki found out that Thor had commissioned a weapon from Anthony that he’d felt such a wave of bitter fury and spite that he hadn’t spoken to his brother for two days. He knew it was unjustified, but the rage and envy couldn’t be smothered. Thor was adored by all he met, was _fawned_ over by any Aesir in his presence - and the mere thought, the _idea_ of visualising such naked gratitude and respect from Anthony for _Thor_... it just twisted Loki’s stomach.

It made him hurl magic at a vase in his room, feeling mildly less furious after it had shattered. He didn’t feel _better_ , but at least the anger was no longer bubbling under the surface, waiting to break free. It was still there, however, wrapped in a hurt he didn’t want to acknowledge and a depression he didn’t want to admit to.

 _And what if Anthony befriends Thor?_ It was a thought that had tormented him since Thor had boasted about the new weapon he would be gaining from the forgemaster. _What if he becomes a part of the Warriors Three? If I end up seeing him all the time...? If **Thor** wins him, wins the one thing I want for myself, when Anthony already knows how I... what I..._

Loki didn’t want to think about the potential path ahead of him, but the thoughts persisted. It made him feel drawn and prone to hiding himself away in the library, the garden - any and every place where he wouldn’t be sought out or could avoid someone if he _was_ found.

It was while he was in the gardens and attempting to read a book that he felt his wards tingling in warning. Loki had long since set up numerous protections around his chambers so that no one could enter without his presence or permission. It wasn’t impossible for a servant or guard to be wandering nearby, accidentally tripping the spells, but he always checked out of habit.

Loki froze in shock at sensing that it was _Anthony_ who was striding purposefully towards his chambers. It was _Anthony_ whose steps faltered the closer he came to Loki’s doors and who stilled metres from the suite - as if unsure whether he should continue forward or turn around to go back the way he had came.

Loki was standing before he could think of whether his actions were wise, pulling magic around himself to teleport to the end of the corridor and far enough away from Anthony’s sight. He also sent a spell over his clothing, removing any possible dirt or wrinkles before walking forward. Loki set a steady, lazy pace, trying to appear as if he _hadn’t_ rushed to find out what Anthony was doing here after so many months of absence.

_It might not be the deal. It might not be anything to do with my offer._

But... if it wasn’t their exchange that prompted the visit, _why_ was Anthony here?

Loki didn’t know, but he knew he wasn’t about to let Anthony slip away without finding out first.

He quickly spotted Anthony - who was pacing and unaware of Loki’s arrival. He had a hand in his hair and his clothing was dishevelled; the sleeves of his tunic were near black with the grime of his trade. Loki could not begin to fathom why that sight sent such lust through him. Why the idea of Anthony filthy, covered in sweat, _uncouth_ made Loki want to pin him against the nearest wall and kiss him fiercely.

Loki had to surreptitiously clear his throat so that it would remain even and composed when he pitched his voice to be heard by the other. “I’m surprised to find you here, Howardson.”

Anthony startled before abruptly turning to face the mage. There was a piece of parchment gripped in his hand that Loki hadn’t noticed before. As he made his way closer, however, Loki’s desire for the other quickly faded into concern. Anthony looked _exhausted_ ; he also looked uncomfortable - like he’d rather be anywhere other than where he was.

That expression made Loki’s thrill at seeing Anthony diminish even further. It also made his unease about the reason for Anthony’s visit heighten.

“Prince Loki,” Anthony addressed formally, even if he didn’t bow. “I would speak with you, if you will.”

Loki raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything further as he brushed past the other and opened the door to his chambers, gesturing Anthony in after him and closing the door behind them both. “Of what would you speak-”

“You offered me your assistance some months ago for a price,” Anthony interrupted. His eyes were narrowed and focused intently on Loki’s chest rather than on his face. “I wish to know if that proposal is still...” he gritted his teeth and clenched his fist, the parchment crinkling softly at the gesture, “...available.”

 _Yes_ , Loki wanted to tell him, to instantly accept the offer that was being presented to him, but Loki swallowed the word down when Anthony’s tension and almost palpable discomfort were so blatant.

“I wonder why you would bother to ask,” Loki remarked, watching carefully and curiously as the stiffness to the weaponsmith’s shoulders only seemed to increase. “You look as if you would rather be anywhere but in front of me and asking for such an exchange.” Anthony’s eyes finally lifted and found his, looking surprised at the mage’s words and that - _that_ made Loki angry, and he barely checked it in time. “I have no interest in a deal that is not _mutual_.”

 _Leave_. The order was on the tip of Loki’s tongue: _If you think I would deny someone their consent... **Leave**._ But he found he couldn’t bring himself to say the words aloud. 

He was grateful, when Anthony broke the silence that followed to admit, “I... I need you to help me, but I did not...” Anthony let out a frustrated breath before continuing: “I had not been certain if this offer was still of _interest_ to you.” He tilted his chin stubbornly upwards and resolutely told Loki, “I would not be here, Prince, if it was something I would not be willing to do.”

 _Willing_ , Loki thought spitefully, _not **wanting**_. There was a vast difference between the two and Loki knew it. Those two words made all the difference in the world when encompassing the feelings they both held but didn’t share.

“And what would you ask of me, should I accept your proposition?” Loki questioned.

Anthony sighed and brought up his free hand to rub at his face. Loki could see that he had obviously attempted some manner of presentation when it came to cleaning his hands and face, but the dirt still lingered. Loki was once again brought to the observation of how ragged Anthony seemed.

“I...” Anthony dropped his hand away and caught Loki’s green eyes with his own tired ones. “I need you to delay Prince Thor.”

Loki’s eyebrows rose slowly. “You wish for me to manipulate the Crown Prince for you?” Anthony was already wincing heavily at his response. “I believe you need to explain the situation far more comprehensibly than that, Anthony Howardson.”

“I just... I just need more time.” The weaponsmith ran another hand over his face before beginning to pace in front of Loki. “I cannot simply stop the work I am already completing for others, nor can I create his weapon in the time he has allotted me. I just... I need a few more days.” He spun abruptly on his heel to face Loki. “If you can persuade him, if you are _willing_ to gain me those days and to do so without Prince Thor knowing of my request, then you may have me however you wish for another evening.”

Loki’s mouth went dry and, before he could stop himself, his eyes travelled down and over the man in front of him. _I have diverted Thor before and for much less... **desired** purposes than this. It can be done. I can do so easily... but..._

 _But **nothing**_ , Loki cut himself off firmly. _You have wanted him back here since the moment he left. You know you will not have him any other way. He has made his decision, and you will make yours._

“So you wish for my secrecy and discretion in distracting Thor from pursuing his commission from you?”

“For just a few days,” Anthony reiterated. He even took a step closer but he didn’t move to touch Loki, not yet confident enough to attempt that. He was still close enough that Loki could see the fine wrinkles on the other’s face from too much laughter and too many late nights over the centuries. “I only need a few, Prince Loki.”

Loki hesitated for a moment before he broke the unspoken barrier between them, lifting his hand to lightly cup Anthony’s chin. He was welcomed instantly, Anthony neither fighting him nor resisting - he even seemed to relax slightly. Loki felt... powerful in that moment, as if he could request the same down payment he had been given before and that Anthony would only accept, folding against Loki’s chest to twist his tongue around Loki’s. It was the knowledge of Anthony’s _desperation_ and _exhaustion_ , though, that snuffed out any enjoyment he could have gained from the moment or from any kind of kiss. So, instead, Loki merely tilted up Anthony’s chin slightly and ran his thumb along the line of his jaw. He then smiled faintly, letting Anthony go and taking a step back.

“I agree to the terms.”

Anthony blinked, still looking mildly shocked. “You do?”

“I will encourage Thor to leave Asgard – but, upon our return, I expect you to make your way back to me here.”

Anthony’s teeth chewed lightly on his lower lip before he spoke, choosing each word cautiously: “I have many items I must work on, Prince.” His brow was also furrowed, his concentration and careful calculation obvious. “I will come within two days of your arrival back on Asgard.”

Loki didn’t like the idea of waiting any longer than necessary after suffering a quest with Thor, but keeping Anthony receptive towards him, in even the smallest way, was a benefit he couldn’t afford to squander. “Very well.”

Those two words made Anthony’s shoulders drop, so much tension leaving him that he was almost slumped with relief. His expression was also far more welcoming - a smile was even hinting at the corner of his mouth. “You have my gratitude, Prince.”

He followed his words by a bow and, when he raised himself, Loki gave the other man a stiff nod. “See that you are ready when I return.”

Anthony quirked his eyebrows, looking amused. “ _Ready_ is something I may not be, but I shall arrive early and allow you to get me so.”

 _Oh_. Loki’s breath caught at the tease and the flood of images it provided. He almost missed Anthony starting to walk around him and towards the door, taking away Loki’s chance to reply to the remark. 

When Anthony opened the door, it not only reminded Loki of the parchment in Anthony’s hand, but it gave the mage an excuse to keep him a little longer. “Had you intended to leave me a note,” he wondered, “should I have not been here?”

Anthony glanced down at his hand to the crumpled paper and chuckled, sounding rueful. “I had hoped you would find me before I needed to.” He glanced up. “How does one begin that letter, Prince? ‘ _I wish to bargain myself to you once more?_ ’”

The disparaging tone, made Loki startle but, before he could question it, Anthony was giving him a jerk of a nod and following it with, “Until your return, Prince Loki.”

Anthony left without further ceremony and Loki was unable to stop it. The nature of their relationship was not personal - but nor was it that of a Prince and a subject. He had no right to pry into Anthony’s life and emotions. He also didn’t ever wish to make Anthony feel forced by unspoken obligation to answer him or to remain in Loki’s presence. He might be Anthony’s Prince, but in these interactions -for a few moments - he was just... Loki.

And that uncertainty of how to act left him struggling with his curiosity about the other man and his desire for more than just the touch of Anthony’s skin. He wanted a touch, a taste, a _place_ in the other’s life. He wanted to know Anthony’s body, but he also wanted to know the man’s mind - and his heart. 

Loki just couldn’t imagine how he ever would.

* * *

He performed the task Anthony requested as soon as he was able. It was simple enough to achieve: he expressed boredom with Asgard to Thor, all the while placing a few hints about travelling and of battles to be fought. It roused Thor into setting aside all plans he might have had in order to take Loki, Sif, and the Warriors Three away for four days.

It was _painfully_ irritating to be in their company for such a period of time, especially when Thor believed and expected Loki to be enthusiastic for the trip away from home. He maintained the lie of that perceived enjoyment - if only for the sake of completing his task. It was his thoughts of Anthony, of having the other _back_ in his bed, that kept him from snapping at his current companions too sharply and complaining overmuch.

When they finally returned to Asgard, Loki felt a rush of pure anticipation and desire wash over him. He wanted to teleport directly to Anthony’s workshop and press the other man against something, to kiss him, and pull Anthony out of each layer of clothing - but Loki couldn’t.

So he waited.

The _difficulty_ , however, that neither Anthony nor Loki could have anticipated was that, on Thor’s receipt of his forgotten commission, his boasts of the quality of the weapon saw an influx of work to Anthony’s workshop.

When Anthony hadn’t come to him within the pre-arranged timeframe, Loki had made his way to the other under the cloak of his magic - agitated, worried, and confused.

He had found Anthony asleep over his workbench and with far more orders than Loki had ever seen the other man previously possess. Anthony had looked as if he’d barely slept in days and Loki had felt his heart tug at the sight. He had wished for nothing more than to reach out and stroke the other man’s hair, to gently lift Anthony from his workbench and guide him to his bed for a proper rest.

But Loki did none of those things. Instead, he had sighed and stolen a piece of parchment to write a simple note that he left by the sleeping Aesir’s head.

_I see you will be of little use to me at this point. I expect you to find me when that changes. Be aware: I will not stay lenient forever._

It took five days more before Loki heard the long expected, long _desired_ knock on his door. It was late in the evening and the prince had been preparing for bed, feeling the familiar mixture of frustrated yearning and disappointment that always accompanied his evenings now. He hadn’t been checking for or expecting Anthony and so the noise had startled him.

He’d swivelled to face the door, already knowing who it was and feeling his pulse race at what was about to begin. 

“Come,” Loki called.

There was the barest pause before the door was pushed open and Anthony stepped inside. It was an image from Loki’s fantasies, and he breathed shallowly as he looked the other Aesir over.

It was obvious that Anthony had come straight from his workshop: his hands and arms were still carrying thin streaks of charcoal from his forge. He looked as if he’d attempted a brief wash of his skin, but all it had done was smear sweat and dirt - and the cool evening air did nothing but dry his attempts at presentation. Anthony looked _delectable_.

“Prince,” Anthony addressed softly, his eyes focused somewhere near Loki’s shoulder.

Loki was already itching to pull the other man close, to taste the heat and fire of creation on his skin, to lay him on the bed and take him slowly, gently, until exhaustion was driven away by pleasure - until he fell asleep in both Loki’s bed and arms. But Loki forced himself to refrain.

He crossed his arms instead and raised an eyebrow. “I had begun to wonder if you would ever arrive, Howardson.”

Anthony’s gaze snapped up to his at that comment, eyes narrowed in a glare as he vehemently told the prince: “I honour my commitments.”

Loki couldn’t help stepping forward and closing the distance at that claim. He smirked a little when Anthony tilted his chin, stubborn and fierce, but Loki just reached out and trailed a finger over the other man’s tunic. He slipped his hand under the collar of Anthony’s shirt, pressing it against warm skin. Loki then began to move, intending to walk around Anthony and appraise each piece of his attire, but he was stopped by Anthony grabbing his wrist.

The unexpected touch made Loki still as Anthony stepped forward, closing the remaining distance between them before angling his head to press his lips against Loki’s in a simple kiss. Loki’s eyes fluttered closed as Anthony was quick to deepen it - and Loki was more than happy to oblige the other man.

The kiss lasted for long minutes - Anthony’s mouth trailing downwards to mouth at the prince’s jaw. When they broke apart, Loki felt a flare of something sharper than lust as he slid his hand up Anthony’s throat, intending to cup his cheek to turn him back into another kiss. Anthony, however, seemed to anticipate it and broke his mouth away to find Loki’s before he could even brush the other’s jaw.

He was surprised at the fervour when Anthony had held little interest in kissing him last time - then Loki’s mind whispered the answer, or rather, whispered the memory of Anthony’s words: _you like to kiss, don’t you, Prince?_

Loki barely kept himself from wincing, but he did break the embrace, pulling his mouth away and making Anthony blink open bewildered eyes.

Loki stepped back completely and dropped their touches; the gesture only made Anthony’s attention become something sharper, analysing the situation to anticipate what Loki wanted him to do - not what he wanted himself.

 _Then why not **take** what you want?_ Loki asked himself. _He is here to give it to you, and you have wanted only one thing since the first time you saw him with wet hair._

“Come.” Loki turned on his heel, making up his mind. “You will strip and you will bathe.”

“I had not thought it would matter, Prince,” Anthony told him almost teasingly, but followed along dutifully enough. “Surely to have me here would be more important than to wait further?” There was a moment’s pause before Anthony continued, his voice softer and almost tentative rather than the confident amusement of before: “But I do thank you for the additional time I was given.”

Loki glanced over at him and the gratitude in Anthony’s smile made Loki’s stomach twist with far too many emotions that he couldn’t afford to let Anthony see. Loki hid them behind an absent nod and shifted his attention back to where they were walking. It didn’t make it easier to dismiss the feelings from _himself_ , but Loki ignored them as best he could.

Stepping into the room, the spells scrawled into the four sconces along the walls created a burst of flame to light the room. Ornamentally carved lanterns also hung from the ceiling and were charmed to give stronger light than the softness of the candles’ flames. 

The room had three portable basins that varied in size depending on the task one wished to use them for, and the one nearest the door was what Anthony had used to clean himself the last time he had visited. Loki often used them rather than the bath if he was short on time. The bathtub took up the centre of the room and was built into the floor, easily fitting four adult Aesir. Loki waved his hand absently, using magic to begin to fill it. He then turned towards Anthony--who was staring at the bathtub with wide, slightly hungering eyes.

Loki could understand the desire as it was a kind of decadence Anthony simply didn’t have access to. It made Loki even more determined to get the other man in the bath: to watch the weaponsmith strip off his clothes and lather himself, to see the other man _relaxed_ and _languid_... and to slide right into the water beside him.

The mage hadn’t settled on any specific plans for the evening, but now Loki knew what he wanted.

Loki gestured towards the side of the tub at a section with a higher tap used for general cleaning before one entered the bath. “Use that.”

Anthony tore his eyes away from the bath and, upon seeing where Loki directed him, sighed but began pulling off his tunic and tossed it into a corner. The rest of his clothing was fast to follow. Loki found himself watching as each piece of skin was revealed to him. He found himself smiling absently at finding a smudge of black across Anthony’s lower back, likely from an unconscious scratch of his skin that had marked Anthony without his awareness.

Loki found his eyes drifting lower to lock on the pert curve of Anthony’s bottom. How he wished to cup it and slip his finger teasingly between the cheeks, his free hand pressing against Anthony’s back and kissing the other man’s neck gently. Loki had to turn away to get his focus back under control once Anthony turned on the spray. Instead, he busied himself with gathering lotions and other items for lathering to line them up beside the bath’s edge.

He straightened again but was so focused on his task that he didn’t hear Anthony padding towards him. Loki also didn’t _expect_ Anthony to finish so quickly. The hands that touched his sides over his tunic were slightly damp, and he stiffened as Anthony murmured against the shell of his ear, “I am clean, Prince, but as you will be bathing after, I do not see the danger in me dirtying you.”

Anthony’s lips followed a moment after, pressing against Loki’s neck to mouth at his skin before trailing down to the collar of the taller man’s tunic. He brought one hand up to lightly pull it aside and scraped his teeth along Loki’s skin. Loki let out a rough breath and his eyelids fluttered in response, but he made himself roll his shoulder to dislodge Anthony’s touch. Instantly, Anthony pulled away and let Loki go.

Loki turned to face him, seeing all the playfulness leave Anthony’s face to be replaced with something uncertain yet calculating: a man trying to present what was wanted, to _cater_ himself to Loki’s tastes. Anthony was standing there, naked, beautiful, and incapable of being anything _other_ than what Loki desired. He just didn’t know it.

But why else would Loki try so hard to get him here? Why _else_ would Loki be offering these exchanges to begin with?

“Prince?” Anthony questioned. “Do you-”

“The bath is for you,” Loki interrupted before standing to the side, watching as Anthony’s eyes dropped to the tub instantly. “I would have you pristine.” He motioned at the bath. “I believe you’ll find it a pleasing temperature.”

Anthony looked unsure as a frown puckered his brow. “You wish for me to bathe?”

“Oh, I will still have you tonight.” Loki stepped forward--he couldn’t stop himself. He moved into the other’s space and gently cupped Anthony’s throat, tilting his head back and capturing the other’s mouth again. Anthony opened for him readily enough and Loki kissed him deeply until their breaths were harsher and his length was already hardening.

Loki pulled away but didn’t let the other go; he glanced down and was gratified to see Anthony’s own growing interest in their activities. The mage kept his hold on the weaponsmith’s throat light but firm and shifted it to the back of Anthony’s neck. He also encouraged Anthony to walk with him to the bath. They stopped by the edge and he lightly stroked over Anthony’s skin before letting him go to take a small step back. Anthony glanced between him and the bath once in slight puzzlement before he gave a slight shrug and sat down on the edge.

Anthony placed his feet into the water and let out a soft moan before sliding his legs in further, levering himself down the rest of the way as his hands gripped the edge. When Anthony’s feet touched the bottom, he removed his hands and closed his eyes, resting his head back against the stone. He looked so content that Loki stayed silent and watched him for the thirty seconds the silence lasted before Anthony abruptly opened his eyes, likely remembering where he was.

“I-”

Loki bent down and selected the first bottle, holding it out to Anthony who took it cautiously in his hands.

“For your hair,” Loki explained. “Lather it before submerging.”

Anthony was still watching Loki like a complex problem he couldn’t grasp. He didn’t argue, however; instead, he uncapped the soap and sniffed. His grin was amused. “Fruit, Prince?”

“Yes,” the mage answered simply as Anthony poured some of the liquid into his hand without further prompting.

The water was clear and Loki took to walking slowly around the edge of the tub, watching as Anthony ran fingers roughly through his hair until all that was left of the solution was a white ball of foam. His eyes were closed as he washed, and Loki admired the other’s relaxed form.

They continued in much the same manner with Loki handing him a second bottle for his hair in order to soften the strands. He also went and procured a wash for Anthony’s body, passing it to the other and letting his hand move to run through the wet, washed locks.

The Aesir startled initially but leant into the touch and the way that Loki let his nails scratch lightly over Anthony’s scalp. The prince pulled away before too long, barely resisting tilting Anthony’s head back to catch his mouth in another kiss. He stood and made his way to grab the final vial before hesitating over two bottles. These were more of a moisturiser and, while one was unremarkable, the other was a more expensive scent he was fond of and used in most of his own bathing. The idea of Anthony smelling of him was beyond tempting - but as much as Loki would have enjoyed it, he knew he couldn’t take the risk of questions being raised. The longer this agreement remained hidden, the greater his chances were of Anthony seeking him out in further instances

Grabbing the more common scent, Loki turned to face the bath only to freeze. He found himself mesmerized by Anthony running his hands over his body. He was using the wash and his motions were smooth and methodical... but also sensual, _savouring_. Anthony’s fingers danced across his skin; his palms ran slowly and firmly down his chest. He even lightly reached between his thighs and stroked his soft length and cupped his balls before moving down his legs.

Loki didn’t know if the gestures were a show for his own benefit or something unthinking, but Loki couldn’t pull his eyes away from them either way. When Anthony turned to gain more soap, he displayed his back to Loki before attempting to wash the area by himself. Loki’s hands twitched at seeing Anthony’s inability to brush each spot efficiently.

“Stop,” he found himself ordering, his voice rough. Anthony did so immediately, one hand on his opposite shoulder blade and the other on his lower back.

Loki put the bottle down beside the bath, and the item wobbled in his haste as he then moved his hand to the lacing at the top of his tunic. He undid them before pulling the item over his head. He tossed the shirt behind himself while his eyes remained on Anthony. The other had looked over his shoulder to watch Loki’s actions, but otherwise hadn’t moved. His eyes were dark as he watched Loki remove each piece of clothing and shove it away from the edge of the bath before entering the same way that Anthony had.

The sudden warmth was almost too much on his already heated flesh, but it was almost secondary to the overwhelming awareness he had of Anthony’s trust, his _willingness_ to show his back so defencelessly to Loki. It was all he could focus on as he walked across the floor of the bath. When he was directly behind Anthony, who had turned back to face the wall, Loki reached around the shorter man and took command of the soap. Loki poured some into his hand and felt the water shift as Anthony moved his arms to rest them by his sides.

There was barely any space between them, but there was just enough for Loki to bring his hands to lightly rest on Anthony’s upper back and run them over the other’s skin. The muscles were firm under his palms, well defined from hammering metal and Loki knew he could spend all day touching Anthony like this. Loki felt Anthony’s skin ripple in reaction to his touch and heard his exhale. It was the only sound the other man made as Loki continued to watch his hands slide down Anthony’s spine before spreading out to cup sharp hipbones, then drawing his palms back up the other’s sides. It was an excuse to explore Anthony and occasionally dig his fingers into a tighter piece of muscle. He couldn’t give those spots too much attention, not without making Anthony suspicious, but Loki did soap his back two more times, rubbing the scented lotion over him until it had faded away and Loki’s hands were left pressed against Anthony’s ribs.

“I think I’m pretty clean,” Anthony murmured lowly when Loki had paused for a long moment.

Loki stepped forward then, his mouth brushing just behind Anthony’s ear as his hardening erection pressed against the other man.

“Are you?” he questioned against the other’s skin. ******

“Yeah,” Anthony answered on his next breath before lightly rubbing himself back against Loki’s arousal, making Loki let out a soft groan. Anthony twisted his head slightly - just enough to dislodge Loki’s mouth and allow them to catch each other’s eyes. “Would you like me here, Prince?”

 _Yes_ , Loki’s mind hissed, desperate and filled with too much yearning for him to be able to voice it. He settled with bringing one hand out of the water and calling the oil from his bedroom to his hand. The crackle of magic drew Anthony’s attention, which was exactly what Loki had hoped. He used the distraction to slide his other hand down Anthony’s body.

He cupped one side of Anthony’s round bottom, his thumb lightly rubbing just inside the other’s cheeks to coax Anthony into spreading his legs farther apart. Loki moved his mouth to scrape against the skin at the nape of Anthony’s neck, feeling the other shiver in reaction.

“You will grip the edge,” Loki commanded. “You will face forward, and you will remain in that position.”

Anthony let out a rough chuckle as his hands came out of the water; instead of doing as directed, he laid his crossed arms on the edge of the bathtub and rested his chin on his forearms, the picture of ease. His cheeky smile might have been hidden, but Loki could still hear it in his voice as the shorter man purred: “Whenever you wish to begin, Prince Loki.”

Loki very nearly nipped him on the neck for that impudence, but he didn’t--he decided to make use of a more _enjoyable_ punishment instead. The lotion he had chosen was more water resistant than most and would allow for ease due to their location.

Dropping his hand under the surface, Loki stepped back slightly to get a better view as he brought his first finger to the curve of the other’s cheeks. He spread them and slipped the digit inside, feeling satisfied by the loud exhale Anthony let out at the feeling. He slid it in slowly, stretching and thrusting gently for some time until Anthony was rocking back against him, wanting more. Loki then removed his finger and took his hand out of the water to gather more lotion. A second finger was added on his hand’s next submergence, and Loki made use of the same slow pace as the first. He smirked when his removal of them this time gained a small, displeased whine from Anthony.

The mage brought his hand above the water for more lotion an additional three times as he stretched Anthony and thrust his fingers into him, making Anthony rock back against the feeling and lose his relaxed slump for a more forceful grip on the edge.

It was after the fourth time that Anthony moaned unhappily and tried to thrust back more forcefully towards him. “ _Loki_.”

Loki continued to pour the lotion onto his already slick fingers, projecting a nonchalance he didn’t feel as his erection was almost curved against his stomach from arousal. “Yes, Anthony?”

The slide of his fingers into Anthony this time was smooth and the lotion unnecessary. Anthony’s moan of desperate welcoming was just what Loki wanted as he held them inside the other man for a moment before drawing them out--only to thrust back in. The prince was stretching and fucking him oh-so slowly until Anthony was pressed back hard against Loki and breathless with need. “ _Please_.”

Anthony’s head had tipped back on the moan, his lips bitten red and his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. The sight was enough to undo Loki and derail any further thoughts of teasing. He removed his fingers and brought them down to grasp Anthony’s hips with purpose this time.

Anthony could tell the difference and instantly spread and braced himself, holding firm to the tub as he brought his forehead forward to rest against the stone. Loki ran his hand over Anthony’s side before removing it to take himself in hand. He stroked his erection once before demanding of the other: “Lift your leg.”

Anthony did as requested, and Loki made sure to hold Anthony’s hip firm with one hand as he pressed him against the wall. Loki positioned their bodies carefully so that the angle would assist him in sliding in while also pulling Anthony down onto his thrust. Anthony’s nails were soon grappling against the stone as he moaned at the feeling of being breached. Loki himself had to bite down on his own moan as the tightness of Anthony encased him.

When he was finally fully sheathed, they both panted--but Loki was the first to recover, pulling out carefully so as not to lose his footing on the marble before pushing back in just as gradually. It was almost too easy to find the spot inside Anthony that made the other man shout hoarsely and almost collapse against the wall of the bath each time Loki stroked over it. The position was perfect for his thrusts and Loki took full advantage of that upper hand. The pace was something Loki was determined to maintain: to savour every moment since the slow drag over sensitive flesh had both men gasping in pleasure. Loki brought his arm to wrap around Anthony’s chest to hold him steady while his lips moved to mouthing at and licking water off Anthony’s neck.

The slow rhythm was the only way to move without fear of slipping; the sound of light splashing and soft moans was loud in the room. Anthony constantly tried to push back against Loki to get more speed and depth from him, rippling the water around them in a wave of warm heat. However, with no leverage between the wall and Loki’s body, he could achieve little and was forced to accept the unhurried pace Loki set for them - all while using each thrust to brush against Anthony’s prostate..

Loki was lightly sucking a mark on Anthony’s neck as he pushed into Anthony again, languishing in the feel and smoothness of his thrust. Anthony, however, surprised him by abruptly tightening his body and pushing back against the mage, making Loki shout his pleasure and jerk inside Anthony unthinkingly. Anthony moaned in response--the thrust had been exactly what he’d wanted to gain, after all.

“ _Anthony_ ,” Loki hissed, attempting to reprimand the other - but Anthony just clenched around him again, making them both moan.

“More, come on, _more_ ,” Anthony panted. “Touch me, _fuck_ me. I need, ah,” he gasped as Loki pulled out only to push in moments later. “ _Yes_.”

Loki found himself unable to ignore the request after that as he brought the hand that had been around Anthony’s chest to wrap around the other man’s hard cock. Anthony shuddered at the touch and moaned loudly. Loki’s own arousal was something he’d been trying to ignore with the slower pace, preferring to enjoy the feeling of Anthony against him: the taste of him, the _sound_ of him. The request, though, made Loki want to feel the way Anthony shuddered against Loki as he cried out his pleasure. The weight of Anthony hard and aroused in his hand was enough to have Loki stroking fast while thrusting into the other as quickly and deeply as he could.

Anthony was chanting out mindless, continual “ _yes_ ”s as he gripped the edge of the bath and held himself in place to get the perfect angle that they both wanted. The increased speed of Loki’s thrusts and firm grip of his hand meant it didn’t take long for Anthony to come, stiffening and gasping as Loki pressed in deep while stroking the other man through his orgasm. His pleasure was expressed in a high-pitched wail and Loki held onto the memory of that sound as he thrust into Anthony’s languid body a few times more until his own climax could reach him.

Anthony was relaxed against the bath’s edge even as Loki leaned his weight against him, his mouth on Anthony’s neck as their breathing began to slow. Loki rested there with his eyes closed, still sheathed inside his lover with one hand splayed on Anthony’s stomach and the other possessively curled over Anthony’s hip.

The water was now almost silent as it began to settle, no longer disturbed by their movements. Resting there, Loki held tight to the feeling of being joined so completely with Anthony, memorizing exactly what it felt, smelt, and sounded like. He wanted to shift just enough to wrap his arms around the other’s chest, to hold Anthony close in a hug and a gesture of possession - _he’s mine; no other can have him_ \- but it wasn’t true.

It made a familiar wound begin to throb in his chest, but Loki ignored it as he took in one more breath, holding the moment in his heart and mind before he opened his eyes and removed himself from the other carefully. When they were separated, Loki made himself step farther back. It was when they were no longer touching that Anthony finally looked over his shoulder to meet the other’s gaze, having followed Loki’s orders not to face him during their coupling.

**Anthony’s mouth was quirked into an amused smile. “You don’t have to send me to clean up this time.”

Loki turned quickly so the expression on his face wouldn’t be witnessed. He shut his eyes when his back was to Anthony before walking over and picking up the discarded lotion from earlier. When the trickster had himself back under control once more, he turned back and tossed the bottle to Anthony, who quickly shifted and caught it mid-arc.

“Wash further if you wish.” Loki levered himself out of the tub and used magic to send away his clothes and to summon a cloth into his hands to dry himself. “I will be in my rooms.”

He left without giving Anthony a chance to respond, trailing water into his chambers when Loki usually despised that very thing. He preferred, though, to keep a room between himself and Anthony now that they were finished. Their business was concluded; Anthony had no more reason to stay.

Loki buried his face in a towel if only to smother the sudden urge he had to groan or say something unwise. _Concluded again_ , his thoughts spitefully reminded him. _You are of no more use **again**. You have had your taste, your **hint** of what you want, even when there are so many other things you have not had a chance to **try**._

Loki roughly dried his hair, caught on thoughts that made his arousal spark with want even as his heart sank with their weight. He could _easily_ pull Anthony onto his bed, mouth at his cock until Anthony could be convinced to have Loki take him again. He _could_ do those things if only he could conjure something to offer Anthony in return - but there was nothing else he had to trade.

Loki growled angrily under his breath before drying the last part of his body to then toss the towel aside. Anthony could still be heard in the water, so the mage made his way to his clothing’s chest and pulled on new garments. He took the time to do it without magic in the hopes it would shed the anger and frustration from his movements. Loki had only just finished--and regained a modicum of control over himself--when he heard Anthony clear his throat.

He looked over his shoulder to find that Anthony had dried himself off and pulled on his pants but held the rest of his clothing over his arm. He was watching Loki curiously.

“Yes?” Loki questioned, his voice coming out slightly sharp - but there was something almost hopeful swirling within him.

Did Anthony desire something similar to what Loki himself craved? Did he want something _else_ , something _more_ , added to their night?

“I’ve emptied the bath.” Anthony said, stepping further into the room as he continued. “I’ll just finish changing and then I’ll leave.”

 _What else did you expect?_ Loki’s mind whispered spitefully. _He is done with his part; he is done with **you**._

“Very well.” Loki gestured the other man towards the door with a heavy arm. Anthony didn’t hesitate and made his way to the living space while Loki followed quietly behind. 

Anthony took a seat on the edge of a chair, laying his clothing over the arm before bending to pull on his shoes. Loki watched, his eyes catching on the mark he’d left on Anthony’s neck and the water droplet that trickled from his hair and down his back.

Stepping closer, Loki let his fingers touch the damp strands, causing Anthony to still with his hands over his feet. Loki rubbed the soft strands together, smiling faintly at the scent of his bathing products clinging to Anthony’s body.

“Prince?” Anthony questioned quietly, and it was enough to break Loki from his indulgence. He let magic seep gently out of his fingers to warm and dry Anthony’s hair as well as any lingering damp spots on the rest of him.

It wouldn’t completely disguise the nature of their relationship, but it should do well enough. It also gave Loki an excuse to have reached for Anthony.

He let his hand slip away and stepped back, causing Anthony to glance at Loki over his shoulder. He sent Loki another searching, scrutinising look, but Loki kept his face carefully blank. In the end, Anthony just picked up his shirt and stood, pulling on the last of his clothing until he looked presentable once again.

Anthony turned when he was finished and faced Loki; there was a discomfort around him that hadn’t been there, not since he’d first stepped into the prince’s suite. They held each other’s gaze for the longest time, both looking for something and neither seeming to find it. Loki certainly didn’t. Anthony was the first to break the contact.

He glanced down at the floor before back to Loki, giving a half-bow - the motion looking uncomfortable - before he murmured, “Good evening, Prince Loki.”

Anthony was barely upright before he was turning and making his way to the door. Loki had numerous things on the tip of his tongue, all begging to be said: _Return if you need anything further from me; wait_ \- and the ever more desperate - _I would like it if you stayed_.

But in the end, Loki didn’t say a word. He watched Anthony leave and waited until the door was shut before he sighed.

Looking down at his hand and the slightly wet tips of his fingers, Loki soon formed a fist and wondered, not for the first time, just what he was doing to himself.

* * *

That heavy feeling never faded, even though three days had passed since his and Anthony’s second night together. Loki knew he wasn’t himself - that he was often lost in his thoughts and pensive, wondering if Anthony planned to come back to him to ask for another favour in the future.

It wasn’t uncommon to see him grow unfocused, but it _was_ unusual for it to be for any reason other than magic. 

Loki should have expected that at least _one_ person would notice the difference.

“You seem distracted lately,” Frigga had remarked one day, her eyes sharp and contemplative. “As if something is holding your attention.”

Loki had been visiting her in her chambers as she had invited him to dine with her privately, citing that she had come across an unusual magic text that he might find interesting. He had gone very still at her words and looked away from the book in front of him by the end of Frigga’s observation. Her invitation was a cunning ploy, and so very like her.

“Did you unearth this just to tempt me,” he wondered aloud. “Or have you been holding onto this book, waiting for some new mischief to question me on?”

“This is not mischief,” she side-stepped easily. “Something weighs on you far more heavily than that.” 

The worried frown to her brow made guilt blossom in Loki’s chest. The expression was something that he’d yet to find a strong enough weapon or defence against. It might not happen at the start, but he still always crumbled when faced with either Frigga’s concern or her disappointment.

“Are you alright, Loki?”

He avoided her eyes. “I’m fine, mother.”

She didn’t seem convinced. “You look as though something plagues you.”

“A minor problem,” Loki answered her, hoping that it would be enough to settle her distress - hoping she wouldn’t notice the discomfort he felt talking about this with her. “It need not concern you.”

Loki didn’t _want_ her to pry. The situation he shared with Anthony was... peculiar and something that she simply wouldn’t approve of or understand. Frigga wanted him happy, loved, and _courting_ someone. She wouldn’t wish to know that he felt... that he... that he simply couldn’t _have_ those things.

Anthony wasn’t someone he could gain in any way other than the proposal that Loki was offering. He couldn’t even earn the chance to touch the weaponsmith regularly. He had to wait until a problem occurred, until something _forced_ the other Aesir back into Loki’s chambers and into his arms.

Anthony, what they shared, what Loki _felt_ \- it wasn’t anything he wanted Frigga to know about and disapprove of. 

“I am your mother, Loki,” Frigga told him quietly. “You will always be my concern.”

It made Loki smile, reach out for, and take her hands with his own: wrapping his fingers around her softer ones. “I appreciate your worry but, I assure you, it is not needed.”

Frigga didn’t look like she believed his words, but whatever doubts she had, she didn’t voice them - at least, not for the moment - and Loki was grateful for that reprieve. He didn’t know where to begin an explanation, and he honestly hoped that he’d never have to try.

This was between him and Anthony: between Loki’s hopes, his reality, and his ability to accept whatever attention he was granted from the other man - and to do his best to greedily steal a little bit more of it, as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing the scene in the bath, even if it involved rambling logistic questions to a friend, haha. ANYWAY. I hope you liked it and the chapter too :D
> 
> Next update should be the same time in two weeks. Thanks for reading!
> 
>  **EDIT** More art??? *buries her flash and flushes* YOU'RE JUST TOO SWEET. PunkPlaidKitty drew something for this chapter and it can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11564019/chapters/25978581). It makes me think of a "fly on the wall" what that item must have seen... XP But thank you so much for your lovely artwork. It's _fabulous_. ♥
> 
>  **EDIT AGAIN!:** And more art by the lovely NovaRain! She actually has a collection of work specifically dedicated to this story BECAUSE SHE IS INCREDIBLE. She drew some NSFW art for this chapter and it can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11433804/chapters/26006664). SO GO GIVE ALL THESE TALENTED ARTISTS SOME PRAISE AND LOVE FOR THEIR AMAZING WORKS X3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, heck of a posting batch from me in the last few days, haha. I usually try to spread them out, but with two chaptered stories due for posting and a couple of oneshots being gifted, they just all worked out as being posted together. I'm sure you're not complaining XD
> 
>  **EDIT:** I forgot to put in the asterisk, I'm so sorry! To anyone who had wanted to avoid the smut, I'm terribly sorry! Also... this chapter has quite a few because there are honestly a lot of sexual scenes peppered through a good portion of the story. Please let me know if you think they should be shifted at all. Ta :)

Loki waited with nervous anticipation as the days passed since his and Anthony’s last encounter. The mage didn’t see much of Anthony, but he listened for any word on the forgemaster, hearing that the other man was now the most sought after weaponsmith on Asgard. Loki felt a twinge of jealousy at the attention Anthony was getting, but it was mostly drowned out by his pleasure at seeing something he’d long known get publically acknowledged by the populace at large - at seeing _Anthony_ get lorded for his genius and his abilities.

It was actually those very things that Loki first noticed about Anthony those many decades ago:

Daggers both ornamental and practical, while easy to come by, were usually presented as unwanted gifts or accessories. Because of that tendency, he often found the quality of the weapons somewhat lacking. Loki had been looking for a new set of blades for his collection while also scouring Asgard’s larger markets for a gift for Frigga. 

He’d been browsing each weapons’ stand when he had come across Anthony’s stall. The craftsmanship displayed had been... superb. He had been shocked at the skill but even more so by the sheer amount of people passing the stall by without a single glance.

Anthony had been both respectful and knowledgeable when the prince had entered the stall. Then, when Loki had queried him about enchanting the blades, Anthony had given informative suggestions - things that Loki knew but hadn’t expected the other to be aware of. The Aesir smiths rarely placed magic on their weaponry, and Loki ended up spending more time than he’d planned to prying information out of the Aesir about his craft.

Anthony had been happy enough to talk to him, no doubt in part due to Loki’s presence drawing others to Anthony’s stall. Loki hadn’t cared at the time about Anthony’s manipulation of his presence; he’d simply purchased the daggers and been impressed enough by Anthony’s quality of workmanship to become a semi-frequent customer. It was, although Loki hadn’t known it at the time, the start of his obsession, attraction, and _infatuation_ with the other man.

Anthony never caught on to the mage’s growing interest. Loki had been discreet - he’d even tried to curb his growing affection, only speaking to Anthony a handful of times a year and restricting their interactions to polite business transactions. But, as hard as he had tried, Loki had been unable to stop the way he _watched_ the other. Loki had found himself chuckling, admiring, _wanting_ from the shadows - silently revelling in Anthony’s successes and spreading small spells of misfortune on those who harmed, hurt, or angered the weaponsmith.

It had been all too easy for Loki to lose himself in desire for the other man, to fall deeper into his obsession with the other. He wished to see Anthony succeed and prosper: to have Anthony flash a genuine, wide smile at Loki and stand at his side in all things. Loki had tried numerous times during their association to create opportunities to spend time with Anthony. Loki had _tried_ to foster a mere friendship with the other... but it never went according to plan. Anthony either didn’t notice his attempts, was dragged away by others, or simply rebuffed any offers he did make while eyeing Loki oddly.

Anthony was always polite, though, always courteous and perfectly professional. He was familiar with Loki, with his presence - and when in a good mood, Anthony would even tease and joke with the mage in conversation if Loki was visiting at his forge. Loki loved those few minutes shared between them, but he’d only wanted _more_.

That very desire was what had made Loki concoct the idea of their deal one frustrated night in his rooms. He’d had to leave the workshop earlier that evening, had to watch Anthony go off with his friends and to flirt with people when Loki was an arm’s width away and willing to offer... everything. 

The idea of the deal had festered in his mind, being dismissed for months - for _years_ , even - until the opportunity had fallen so perfectly into his lap that Loki couldn’t bring himself to stop it.

That very action placed him where he was now: waiting with hope and twitching fingers to see if Anthony would find him yet again. It _frustrated_ the mage that Anthony now received so many orders each day because it minimised the opportunity Anthony would have to seek him out or gain a problem only Loki could fix.

Loki had been too busy mourning the minimised chances for time spent with Anthony that he hadn’t anticipated that the orders themselves might create the very problem Anthony would next need to come to him for.

It happened while Loki was attending a council meeting with Odin. The king might not have been closely watching his son, but it didn’t mean he could leave the proceedings (no matter how tedious they were) when Loki felt his wards spark with Anthony’s presence. He’d tensed, barely keeping himself from jerking with surprise or rushing off to meet Anthony.

Loki knew, though, that even if he could spin enough honeyed words to leave the meeting, he couldn’t afford the knowledge of his actions reaching Anthony. It was one thing to approach Anthony when he had no pressing matters; it was another entirely to reveal just how encompassing his interest in Anthony actually was by running away from a meeting - especially one that his father was involved in.

Loki knew that, by staying, Anthony might change his mind; but the prince gritted his teeth and made himself remain. He could always seek Anthony out later and pry out the reason for his visit under the guise of curiosity and suspicion.

However, the situation still made him tense and whatever absent interest he might have had in the council meeting disappeared completely as his attention became fixated on Anthony’s energy outside the door to his chambers. Loki was almost tempted to set fire to something - to orchestrate _any_ way out of the meeting, but he didn’t.

Anthony only lingered by his room for a few minutes before leaving; Loki was forced to wait, wonder, and grow increasingly frustrated by the waffling of the councilmen in the room around him.

When the gathering finally ended an hour later, Loki was almost ready to climb out of his skin with the wave of emotions roiling around inside him. He barely managed to clear the room and only walked far enough away to not be spotted by the other council members before teleporting directly to the corridor outside his chambers.

There wasn’t a single sign of Anthony having been there, and he felt his heart and hopes drop immediately. Loki scanned the area with an unhappy grimace before pushing open his door. The mage knew Anthony hadn’t been inside - the wards would have informed him if the other Aesir had managed to do so - but, regardless, he still intended to search his rooms.

Loki had only taken a step inside when parchment rustled under the sole of his boot. He instantly glanced down while removing the weight of his foot from the spot. There was a folded piece of paper slipped under his door and Loki’s breath raced as he bent down to snatch it up.

There was no one around to see anything - but the prince still stepped inside and shut his door, safe in the heavily guarded privacy of his chambers.

Unfolding the parchment, his eyes rushed over Anthony’s rough scrawl and simple words: _I have a proposition, if you’re still interested._

Anthony didn’t sign the note nor did he specify the nature of the request, but why would the weaponsmith need to? They both knew the only reason why he would be contacting Loki. The only thing that mattered was whether or not Loki could help him - and if the mage was willing to do so. But Loki doubted he ever would refuse when Anthony offered a new deal, not when agreeing granted him the one thing he wanted.

Sending out his magic, Loki had to wait impatiently for a few minutes until Anthony’s workshop was empty save for the man himself. Knowing the level of attention Anthony was now gaining for his work, Loki also threw up a simple but useful spell to encourage people to put off any visits to Anthony’s workshop until Loki was finished speaking with him.

Instead of teleporting directly inside, Loki appeared just outside the weaponsmith’s open door. He could hear the sound of Anthony muttering under his breath but couldn’t make out the words. The other Aesir was also rustling paper and the clang of implements being picked up and put down made Loki think he was searching for something.

Quelling the smile that wanted to form at imagining that very picture, Loki stepped inside. He found Anthony’s back to him and allowed himself a brief glance at the other’s clothing: different to the ones he’d stripped out of the other week, but still a similar work wear.

“Hello, Anthony.”

The other stiffened and spun around, but he barely glanced at Loki before his eyes were moving to the door. Anthony didn’t even greet the prince before he was walking across the room and grasping the workshop’s doorhandle to pull the door tightly shut, sealing them and their conversation inside.

Loki had stepped aside to let the other man do so and was now watching him intently, seeing the uncomfortable tightness of Anthony’s shoulders, the unhappy slant of his mouth. It made Loki’s stomach sink as Anthony finally turned back to him, his eyes not quite meeting Loki’s.

 _I wonder_ , Loki thought, _would you feel just as uncomfortable discussing this if you knew that I had warded us?_

“You received my note, Prince Loki,” Anthony stated, his eyes still lowered to avoid Loki’s.

“I did.”

Anthony nodded, not even attempting to avoid the subject or to begin their discussion with lighter, easier talk. “I have asked you here as I am in need of-”

“Stop,” Loki halted him quietly, watching the way that Anthony’s mouth snapped shut and his posture, if possible, tightened further. He watched as everything about Anthony’s body language screamed uneasiness and apprehension - when his every expression made Loki think he wished to be anywhere but where he was, asking anything but what he had begun by leaving behind the note that Loki had found.

It left a sour taste in Loki’s mouth and made any excitement he’d felt about coming here disappear entirely. His voice felt hollow when he continued, but he doubted Anthony noticed it. He doubted Anthony _cared_. “No, Anthony Howardson. I have no interest in partaking in something that you do not wish to be involved in.”

Anthony’s eyes snapped to his and he stepped forward, instantly protesting, “I have said before that I would not suggest it if I am not-”

Loki reached out and snagged Anthony’s chin, satisfied to feel the other Aesir’s flinch - if only because it proved his point. The way Anthony tried to glance at the window as if to make sure they were unobserved only furthered Loki’s depression. Loki let him go and summarised: “You don’t wish for this to be known to others nor do you wish to have it known that it is _me_.”

“As if _you_ want this known to people, Prince,” Anthony spat in response, a sudden flame of irritation bright in his eyes. “You made your request for secrecy long before I could ever ask for it.”

 _Yes, but it is different things we seek to hide_ , Loki thought.

It was through force of will that Loki kept his voice flat. “It doesn’t change that you would have requested it.”

Anthony laughed bitterly and ran a hand through his hair. “I do not want to be seen as nothing more than someone who bargains _favours_ to carve my path in life - favours with the _Prince_ , no less.” He sneered. “Like I am your bartered trophy.” The weaponsmith’s teeth were gritted as he begun to pace while Loki stared on in guilt and shock. “The people who live this way, I’ve never condemned... but it doesn’t mean others do not. It doesn’t mean others won’t _ask_ \- and what of my reputation then, Prince?” 

He glanced at Loki and admitted with a sigh, “I trust that you won’t - well, that you will do what you say: remain quiet and solve my dilemma. I do not know _why_ this is your price, but I cannot deny its... use.”

 _A use you feel ashamed to request_. Loki didn’t say those words aloud, afraid they would further fracture what was already slipping through his fingers. He needed to solve this; he needed to _mend_ this before Anthony decided it was a deal he could not continue to be part of.

“This is an arrangement,” Loki informed him. “A benefit to us both and should not be considered anything else--nor has it any need to become known to others. This should be a mutually pleasing arrangement.” Loki took a careful step forward, pleased when Anthony didn’t try to keep the distance between them. “I am happy to procure and do things for you and, in return,” the prince was much slower in reaching for his second touch, sliding a finger along Anthony’s jaw, “I enjoy the pleasure gained from an experienced and attractive lover.”

“I barter my bod-”

“You sell your weapons for gold,” Loki interrupted. “This is not, nor should be considered anything but a transaction of a similar nature.”

“You _fuck me_ ,” Anthony snapped, “after _helping_ me.”

Loki prepared himself internally before demanding: “Do you enjoy your time in my bed?”

Anthony looked surprised at the sudden question. “I... what?”

“Do you _enjoy_ your time in my bed?”

Anthony narrowed his eyes, as if searching the mage’s question for tricks. When he couldn’t seem to find any, he cautiously answered, “You are a knowledgeable lover.”

It still wasn’t what Loki wanted. “Do you come to my chambers dreading our encounter?”

That, at least, made Anthony react. “I would _not_ do this if that was what I felt.”

“Then this is beneficial to us both,” Loki told him, relief flooding through him even if he tried to keep it from his voice. “You do not suffer, you enjoy yourself in my bed, and I have no compunction with completing your requests.”

“And why _do_ you do this?” Anthony interrupted when Loki paused for breath, his eyes narrowed. “Why did you suggest this with me?”

Loki gave a faint shrug and spoke words he had long prepared, all while projecting a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “You hold no expectations from me nor do you wish to further yourself by using my status to your advantage. You are attractive,” the mage admitted openly, “and you had a problem I could solve at a time where I was idle and interested in something to distract me from my more tedious duties.” It all rolled effortlessly off his tongue and Anthony, thankfully, looked none the wiser of the lie. “This is, as you so aptly declared it earlier, _useful_.”

“People will notice this, if we continue it,” Anthony finally answered, frustration evident in his voice. “They might not know _what_ we are doing, but they will certainly infer that it is something more than merely seeking my weapons.”

“My magic will dissuade others from seeing what we do not wish them to.”

“But we will still be _around_ one another, more so than we ever have been in the past. We will become familiar-” Anthony’s eyes skittered from the other Aesir’s. “Even if only with particular aspects of each other.”

Loki licked his lips, feeling foolish for daring, but speaking the words regardless. “An association between us would not be condemned if they merely thought we were... acquaintances.”

Anthony’s eyes widened, and it instantly made Loki want to grimace. His reputation, after all, was not the kind that many _wanted_ to be connected to; Loki had little in the name of friends for more than one reason.

“You would... foster that impression?” Anthony wondered.

“You may not be seeking a benefit from this relationship, but others will assume you are intending to gain my favour,” Loki explained easily. “It is a simple way of avoiding their interest as they will consider your actions unlikely to succeed with me. Therefore, the explanation will work well enough if you wish to use it if queried.”

Anthony’s brow furrowed as he puzzled over Loki’s answer. “But the idea I’d be using any kind of friendship to my advantage, it would imply a level of natural secrecy. I wouldn’t tell others for fear of you becoming aware of my intentions.”

“Not if you use carefully chosen words,” Loki suggested. “You might not want your aim to reach my ears, but you are not a man incapable of wielding your responses deftly. Plant enough seeds without giving others all the details and they will come to their own conclusions.”

Anthony’s mouth twitched up and into a small, amused smile. “Are you teaching me the tricks for a successful lie, Prince Loki?”

“A deflection,” Loki firmly corrected, even as something surprisingly like _longing_ flared to life inside him: A wish to be able to explain his words and manipulations - and to have them understood, appreciated, _taught_ to a willing party and _partner_. “A way to hide the true nature of what we share to be used at your discretion.”

Anthony’s amusement only seemed to deepen. “An illusion.”

Loki felt uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t pinpoint as Anthony’s eyes held his own, _saw_ him in a way few others did.

“In a way, yes,” Loki was forced to agree.

Anthony gave a short, sharp nod. His smile never faded as he answered, “Very well, Prince.”

Loki suddenly felt uncomfortable, unbalanced at the implications that came from their conversation. Anthony might have looked more relaxed and accepting of Loki being in his home and the deal between them, but Loki still found it hard to believe what had just happened. Had they just agreed to nurture a friendship?

Before the prince could analyse it further, Anthony spoke, sounding self-deprecating as he looked away from Loki. “However, you did not come here to ease my concerns.” He glanced up, a slight perplexity to his dark gaze as he said, “Although I do thank you for doing it.”

Loki, unfortunately, had some idea as to what prompted that expression. “My actions and my nature are not as cruel as they are purported to be.”

“So I am finding, Prince,” Anthony agreed before the good humour fell away from his face. “But I have detained you enough.” His eyes flicked to his workbench. “I have detained _myself_ long enough.” The weaponsmith sighed and turned back to Loki. “I have a request of you, if you will have it.”

“I believe my presence here would indicate my interest in your request. What is it that you seek?”

Anthony rubbed the back of his neck, a habit Loki was noticing he had. “I wish to gain access to the royal library.”

“Ah,” Loki murmured. 

“I have need of certain texts for my work,” Anthony explained.

“And there is only a single way to gain permission to access the tomes,” Loki concluded: _a royal invitation_. 

He was the only chance that Anthony had because, while the library itself wasn’t strictly off-limits, few Aesir ever used it. It was also in a secluded part of the palace that not many ventured near due to the number of guards patrolling the areas around it. 

There were some Aesir - such as healers and mages - whose vocations and studies allowed them to enter due to their position, but most other Aesir didn’t have such a privilege. Anthony’s only true way to enter the palace and descend down to the library was either with the accompaniment of a member of the royal family or by gaining what Anthony had requested: a letter that allowed him free use of the facilities.

“You know what I offer,” Anthony concluded, tilting his chin slightly but keeping his eyes on Loki’s.

Loki couldn’t resist stepping forward - in part because he simply wished to touch, but also to see how Anthony responded after his previous discomfort. None of it showed this time as Loki’s fingers skated over Anthony’s neck and under his jaw, feeling his pulse flutter even as his body remained relaxed under Loki’s touch.

“Hmm,” Loki hummed, keeping his hand almost cupping Anthony’s neck. “And when will you come to my chambers? Your time is precious recently, I’ve noticed.”

“I have made you wait once, Prince,” Anthony answered. “Give me your letter this evening, and I will take it once I have seen to our,” he smirked, “ _mutual_ satisfaction.”

Loki’s heart raced with anticipation, and he knew his eyes must have darkened by Anthony’s smug smirk. “I will see you this evening then, Anthony.”

“Yes,” Anthony replied with promise. “You will.”

Loki was forced to leave the other man at that, dropping his hand and stepping back before he was tempted to pull Anthony into a kiss or have him over the workbench. The terms of the exchange had been given and he wouldn’t refuse them. Loki gave Anthony one more lingering look before he turned away and left the workshop.

He removed the spell that kept people from interrupting them and walked away from the other’s home. If the ruse that Anthony wished to create allowed them some form of acquaintance outside of their nightly meetings and deals, then Loki would hardly shy away from it. He wanted Anthony in all the ways that he could gain from him and encouraging their association in public would only assist Loki in his goal of spending as much time as he could manage in Anthony’s company.

It was a start - and it also had Anthony back in his rooms and his bed tonight. Loki walked slowly, savouring the thought of tonight. He also took his time contemplating exactly what way he would have Anthony when his lover eventually joined him.

* * *

Loki reached his chambers without any interruption. He had stopped briefly at the library, seeking the exact design and wording for the letter that he would need to provide Anthony. Loki discovered that it was simple enough to draft but, as he’d never once needed it, he wanted to make sure there would be no chance for doubt or disagreement.

When the formal invitation was completed and he had signed it, Loki rolled the parchment up, tying green ribbon around it before placing it on his writing desk. He had fingered the green cloth with a small smile, enjoying the more blatant things he could now bestow upon the other Aesir. The document was signed by him and _given_ by him to Anthony. It meant that the ribbon could hold his colours; it meant _Anthony_ could hold his colours and openly show their association. The knowledge that his permission granted Anthony entrance would spread throughout the Aesir court quickly. It would only help encourage their ruse of having fostered a friendship.

There might not be many who would query Loki directly about Anthony - but family, at least, would have their curiosities. Odin would likely see the sense in giving a popular and talented weaponsmith access and would dismiss it as such. It would be Thor and Frigga that Loki would need to be wary of. Frigga, especially, would read between any words he may give her and draw far too many accurate conclusions from them.

The mage had given some thought to his responses to his family as he drafted the letter—but, ultimately, it was not what occupied his mind. How could it be, when Loki knew that Anthony would be visiting him shortly?

Unfortunately, he’d still had obligations to fulfil throughout the afternoon. Loki had even been required to share dinner with Thor and his useless friends. He’d excused himself shortly after finishing his meal, gaining very little resistance to his departure. When he returned back to his chambers, he bathed quickly to remove the day’s dirt and to change into more casual clothes as he waited for Anthony’s arrival.

Anthony hadn’t set a time for his visit, so Loki spent the night preparing and storing spell ingredients to distract himself. But it was a mindless, methodical task and it allowed his thoughts to wander. More specifically, it allowed them to wander towards _Anthony_.

Loki carefully avoided thinking of the weaponsmith when he’d been performing his duties and socialising with Thor. He knew how quickly he could be left longing for Anthony’s companionship, which could quickly develop into a physical longing for the other man’s touch - something that Loki did not wish to suffer when he was outside the privacy of his room and unable to take care of the matter. 

And how he longed to do that now.

Loki could feel himself stiffening in his pants just by imagining Anthony stepping into his room with a wicked smile and flirtation in his movements and words.

He’d had fantasies about Anthony in the nights since his last visit, had succumbed to thoughts of the other’s hands and tongue and palmed himself to completion all while hoping he would receive the other man’s touch again.

Loki knew Anthony would be joining him soon; it only enhanced his desire, making him shift in his seat. While the mage did try to concentrate on the ingredients in front of him, he soon enough found it impossible and he sighed, dropping the items in his hands. Pressing his palms against the desk, Loki found his eyes falling closed as he pictured Anthony coming to join him. He pictured Anthony behind his back, purring wordless phrases into his ear. Loki cared little for what they were when his focus was on imagined hands on his chest and a mouth moving along his jawline.

He arched his neck unconsciously to mimic his fantasy-self while his arousal became firm against his leg. Loki licked his lips and opened his eyes. He stared at the desk that covered his waist from view and argued with himself. _Anthony is coming to you tonight; you have no need for fantasy._

 _But he may yet be some hours_ , another part of him argued. _Enjoy yourself now and you’ll have more control over your desire later._ **

The logic, such as it was, was enough to persuade him and Loki washed his hands in the bowl of water he kept nearby before drying them. He then pushed his chair back enough to be able to fit his hand beneath the desk comfortably. He untied his pants and closed his eyes, not yet slipping himself free as he allowed his mind to slide back into his fantasy.

Loki imagined Anthony’s hands on his chest, running his palms from Loki’s shoulders all the way down to the prince’s waist, having to drape over him to manage it. He then had Anthony move up his chest, slide a hand under Loki’s tunic to find his nipple, stroking it and murmuring his desire. Loki brought his own hand up to copy the feeling.

 _What a beautiful image you make, my Prince_ , Anthony would say. _How shall I enjoy you tonight, my Loki?_

 _However you like_ , Loki answered, turning his head and capturing Anthony’s lips.

The image made Loki twitch in discomfort - he was not able to replicate the feeling without a clone and was unwilling to even attempt it. So he quickly moved the proceedings to another event. Loki kept himself in the same chair, but he placed Anthony at his feet, removing the desk from his fantasy as he looked down at Anthony’s smirk.

Loki’s arousal was hard with his need and he brought his hands to it, shivering slightly at the feeling as he drew himself out. Anthony was the one who pulled him free in his fantasy, and the mage pretended they were Anthony’s hands that were slowly stroking him now. Loki opened his eyes just long enough to wet his hand in the water to aid in his strokes before he closed them again and continued on with his imaginings. He bit down on his lip to keep in a low moan of pleasure as he spread his legs wider.

He pictured Anthony eyeing him avidly and rubbing his thumb over the head of Loki’s arousal, something he did to himself and which caused his hips to jerk. He tipped his head back on the chair and slumped back farther, increasing his strokes and concentrating on the memory of Anthony’s eyes, his mouth - the feel of his calloused hands on Loki’s skin.

Loki imagined Anthony moving his mouth forward and Loki licked his lips as his desire thrummed; his hips started twitching with every motion of his thumb brushing over the tip. He wasn’t anywhere near completion yet, but Loki was burning with the craving for it.

It was as he was mid-stroke, his neck arched against the chair and his teeth caught on his lower lip -his mind firmly fixated on the fantasy of Anthony - that a loud and sudden knock jerked him roughly from his thoughts.**

Loki gasped - not from pleasure but from embarrassed horror as his head twisted to the door; he knew, without having to search, that the man he had pictured between his legs was now on the other side of his door. The prince flushed darkly, but the knowledge did nothing to quell his arousal--it now actively throbbed with want at the thought of the other man.

The mage groaned under his breath and made himself let go. His erection was curved towards his stomach and Loki was aching with the need to finish himself off, but he knew he couldn’t - not without ruining the chance to have Anthony this evening. He knew the spells required for shortening his refractory period, but unless a lover had equally used one it tended to make sex difficult to share.

Cursing under his breath, Loki was forced to slide his arousal back into his pants, the material making him flinch as it rubbed his sensitive flesh. He also tried to even his breath, but he knew the flush in his cheeks and the hardness of the erection beneath his clothing would be informative enough of his state. Loki had no choice but to throw up a quick illusion before he answered the door.

“Anthony,” he greeted, clearing his throat when his voice came out rougher than usual.

Anthony gave him a slightly odd look, but otherwise didn’t comment on it as he stepped inside. Loki wanted to groan slightly or squirm as the sight of the other made his body tingle with renewed desire. 

The fantasy was so fresh in Loki’s mind and he only wanted to continue it, to have it _with_ the man in front of him. But he forced himself to harden his resolve. He could have one thing tonight; Loki wouldn’t let it be that when there were other things that Loki wanted more.

Anthony was watching him, his perplexity only growing deeper. Loki searched for the first topic he could think of to distract the other man. “You never told me what manner of texts you would be seeking in the library.”

Anthony’s eyebrows rose. “I would not have thought you’d care to discover it.” He tilted his head slightly. “Are you all right, Prince?”

“I’m fine,” Loki answered as he dismissed the other’s concern, but made sure to step away from Anthony as he entered farther into the room.

His arousal was hardly dimming, but Loki did his best not to pay attention to it. He tried instead to maintain the conversation. The prince’s body felt flushed and his stomach twisted with incomplete longing, but he needed time before they moved to his bed chambers or it would be impossible to hide his state or the illusion he had drawn up. The moment Anthony touched him, it would simply shatter.

“How are your projects progressing?” Loki enquired.

Anthony was silent and Loki turned to look over his shoulder. Anthony was watching him with narrowed eyes. “Forgive me, Prince, but you do not seem yourself tonight.”

“You wish to create a ruse of friendship,” Loki answered, hurrying to pull any excuse that allowed him further time to diminish his current arousal. “I am attempting to give us some sense of credibility.”

The prince had looked away from Anthony while he searched for a feasible enough answer but, when he glanced back, he found Anthony’s eyes filled with something almost... smug. A smirk was pulling at his mouth and he slowly made his way towards Loki, something almost prowl-like to the weaponsmith’s motions. Loki went stock still as his eyes took in every inch of the handsome beauty that the other man naturally exuded.

“Are you, Loki?” Anthony asked, his voice a low purr as he stopped before his prince; there was heavy calculation in his dark eyes. He placed his hand on Loki’s chest and the mage could feel the spell grow strained. “And what have you been doing in my absence, Prince Loki?” Loki swallowed but Anthony continued in a suggestion before he could reply: “Something at your desk, perhaps?”

Loki flinched minutely and, because Anthony’s hand was on him, the other man felt it. “I was handling magic ingredients.”

Anthony nodded. “Yes; you are, after all, a master of magic and illusion.” 

Anthony’s hand slid down his chest and Loki couldn’t think fast enough to stop it as Anthony grabbed the waist of his pants and tugged before stepping back quickly. The small movement and touch were enough to destroy the illusion that had only been hastily applied.

It revealed the mage exactly as he had been and still was: aroused, flushed, and _mortified_.

But Loki threw confidence and fury around him like a shield. He grabbed Anthony’s hand that was still against his lower stomach and clenched it painfully, pulling it from his clothes and making the smirk on Anthony’s face fade to a confused wince. “You take far more liberty than I have offered you, _Howardson_.”

“Should we not be candid in _this_ , Prince Loki?” Anthony riposted, not backing down. “Or do you wish to tell me that I am not the cause for your current state? Clearly, if that is so, then I am not the partner you should be requesting.”

Loki gritted his teeth, unable to refute it - but it was in the silence that followed that Anthony’s agitation thawed. “I have been around you when you are aroused, Prince; it was no leap for me to notice the resemblance.” He chuckled and nodded at the seat Loki had vacated earlier. “I have also left my chair in such disarray before when I’ve been interrupted for... similar reasons.”

Loki loosened his grip on Anthony’s hand while the other had spoken, and it allowed Anthony to give one slow stroke of his thumb over Loki’s palm in something not unlike sympathy or comfort. “I do not seek to mock you. Rather, I feel flattered.”

“You think highly of yourself,” Loki growled, still not relaxed enough to drop his defences.

Anthony hardly seemed bothered by the mage’s prickliness; instead, something contemplative entered his eyes. “May I suggest, Prince: as it seems that I have made you wait once more, I repay you in some small way?”

“Repay me?” Loki repeated, keeping his tone level even as desire and anticipation began to spike through him once more. “And how would you seek to do that?”

Anthony very slowly looked over at the chair before back to Loki. His grin never faded even as he took steps towards it and, with their hands lightly clasped, Loki had no choice but to follow if he didn’t want to let the other man go. (Loki _never_ wanted to let Anthony go.)

When they reached the chair, Anthony pushed it out farther and turned it so that it was facing the centre of the room. Loki already had a fair idea of what Anthony had conceived, but he still found it hard to believe - even when he was sitting himself in the chair and Anthony was lowering himself to his knees in front of the Asgardian prince.

Loki half expected he would wake from a dream; when he surreptitiously checked, Loki found he was indeed in reality and that it _was_ Anthony’s hands that were resting on his thighs. The weaponsmith’s fingers moved to unlace Loki’s pants and Loki felt his breath leave him in a rush when Anthony reached in for and gently removed his arousal. 

_This is the first time we have been so intimate_ , Loki’s mind hissed at him in warning, voicing the wave of panic and yearning that rushed through him at the realisation. _I can see his face._ **

He wasn’t able to feel concern for long because, soon enough, Anthony stroked him. His hands were slightly too dry, but the feeling still made Loki’s hips twitch at the sensation. Before he could fully still them, Anthony was moving forward and his mouth was taking the head of Loki’s cock into the heat of his mouth.

Loki felt a choked groan get caught in his throat while a fully body shudder went through him when Anthony’s tongue swiped across the head of his erection. Anthony’s hand moved to the base of his cock before he slid his mouth down, hollowing his cheeks as he moved. There was no tease, no slowness to his motions; he was performing a task and Loki had to tilt his face away from Anthony’s bowed head briefly.

The pleasure was still beautiful and intense. Anthony was talented and knew how to draw strangled moans from Loki as he bobbed his mouth and suckled on the head of the mage’s cock, wiping away the precum. Anthony was a _vision_ with his head bowed between Loki’s legs and Loki found himself lightly thrusting, chasing the pleasure that was quickly mounting.

And he wanted it. He wanted to curl his fingers in Anthony’s hair and know what it was like to reach his completion in Anthony’s mouth - but Loki also needed more.

He forced himself to reach down, to feel Anthony’s gorgeous brown locks in his fingers before he lightly gripped them and forced Anthony’s mouth off his erection. Anthony opened surprised eyes, his mouth red and swollen from previous actions; eventually, he licked his lips and asked uncertainly, “Loki?”

Loki was unable to keep from pulling the other Aesir up and over his lap so that he could kiss the mouth that had given him such pleasure. Anthony kissed him back, his hands coming to rest on Loki’s shoulders and allowing Loki to thrust his tongue into Anthony’s mouth and tug at his shorter hair until Anthony let out his own moan.

It was only when they pulled back that Loki opened his eyes. Anthony was flushed with heat and arousal and Loki had enough sense to demand, “I will have you on my bed. _Now_.”

Anthony grinned and pulled away from the taller Aesir. It left not a sliver of them connected, but Anthony hardly seemed bothered as he began tugging off his shirt and making his way towards Loki’s bed without needing to look.

Loki followed at an equally quick pace, removing his clothing in a similar way only to toss them on the floor by his bed when it was finally reached. When Loki dropped the final item, he turned to Anthony who had already finished undressing. The weaponsmith’s arousal was curved and hard with desire and Loki coveted it. He stepped forward and pulled Anthony against him, feeling the smaller man’s chest against his own as Loki kissed him.

The heat from Anthony and the feel of his skin was as incredible as the first time, and Loki didn’t let them kiss for long before he was moving the other to the bed. He had Anthony lie on his back in the centre as Loki grabbed the necessary oils and knelt between his lover’s legs.

Anthony looked slightly surprised but hardly opposed to the change to their preparations, but Loki had made him lay chest upwards for a specific reason. Loki watched the other’s face carefully as he worked the first oiled digit in. He waited until Anthony had closed his eyes and arched his head back before he held Anthony’s arousal firm with his free hand and ducked his head to finally mouth at the other man’s beautiful cock.

Anthony let out a choked sound of uninhibited pleasure and hissed out the prince’s name with pure adulation. “Ah… _Loki_.”

Loki felt a flush of pride and triumph at the sound and, while he couldn’t live up to his reputation as _silvertongue_ while preparing the other man, he could still cause delicious pleasure and teasing to the head of Anthony’s erection.

He soon had Anthony moaning and whining, twisting the sheets in his hands and panting heavily. Anthony was doing remarkably well to keep his body under control but one deep thrust of Loki’s fingers had Anthony arching and making his cock fall away from where Loki had been mouthing at the head.

Loki’s eyes had fluttered shut earlier - so focused on the sounds of the other man and seeking the most pleasure possible for Anthony - that it took that motion to remind the prince of the situation. He looked at Anthony’s heaving chest and desperate features: the face of a man on the edge of ecstasy and at his absolute mercy.

The face and body - the _person_ \- that Loki would give the world to, if it would only allow him to just... keep Anthony

The mage stilled and just stared at the other. Loki’s chest filled with an ache that was deeper than his arousal and more encompassing than physical pain. It was warm enough to burn him and made him want to just lie down beside Anthony and kiss and hold him until the world melted away.

_You are..._

But Loki’s mind couldn’t even finish the words, and he shut his eyes from the sight before him.

“Loki?” Anthony asked and, when Loki glanced up at him again, the forgemaster was propped up on his elbows, obviously confused by the halt in the proceedings and oblivious to the way Loki had just looked at and adored him. 

Loki swallowed and commanded: “On your hands and knees. You’re prepared enough.”

He couldn’t describe the shift he saw in Anthony’s expression and what the change meant before Anthony did as ordered and positioned himself as directed. Loki allowed his mask to fall just slightly and showed his longing, knowing Anthony couldn’t see him.

He already missed seeing Anthony’s face.

Letting out a careful breath, Loki moved closer and pushed useless thoughts aside to focus on giving one final check to make sure Anthony was stretched enough. He was, and Anthony let out a pleased shudder at the feel of Loki’s fingers sliding back inside him.

When the prince removed them, he moved himself to an easier position before taking himself in hand. He stroked himself gently while looking down at Anthony’s stretched entrance. Loki placed a hand on Anthony’s back before moving it to his hip. He kept himself in hand as he asked quietly, “Spread yourself for me.”

Anthony hesitated before dropping himself farther down on the bed, then bringing his hands around to do just that. The sight sent a shudder through Loki and he took a moment to just _look_ at Anthony - open, accepting, _his_ \- before he breached the other. They both let out shaking breaths before Loki took Anthony by the hips and Anthony put his hands back on the sheets. 

When Loki was fully inside, he let himself lean forward and rest his forehead on Anthony’s upper back. He didn’t allow himself to give the gentle kiss he wanted, but he did catch his breath against the other’s skin.

He pulled away before his first thrust, gripping Anthony’s hips tightly as he drew himself out and back in. Anthony moaned and began to angle himself to deepen each thrust, their familiarity with the other showing in the way they interacted. Loki found it easy to search for Anthony’s prostate, knowing the man loved it being stimulated during sex. When he hit it, Anthony’s hands crumpled slightly and he rested his weight on his elbows; it left Loki with a position that only assisted him in seeking out the spot inside Anthony that made him give strangled and pleasured cries. 

Loki’s thrusts were slow and drawn out; although his body wanted him to thrust deep and fast, chasing his climax, he also wanted to savour it. Anthony was moaning and begging Loki for more, saying his name like a prayer and fuelling the need inside Loki to lose himself in pleasure.

It was when Anthony’s voice cracked on Loki’s name, a thrust having pressed directly where he needed it, that Loki finally lost his control. The reflexive tightening of Anthony’s muscles had made Loki jerk forward halfway through his withdraw, unable to stop the reaction. The moans they let out, the feel of Anthony pushing back against him and softly begging for more - it made Loki’s desire too encompassing to deny and he started increasing his thrusts, his nails digging into Anthony’s hips.

He felt Anthony shift slightly, just enough that when Loki opened his eyes, blinking sweat away to glance down, he realised Anthony was stroking himself rapidly, chasing his orgasm and twisting his face in the sheets as Loki thrust into him.

It triggered the mage’s orgasm at seeing Anthony beneath him, his eyes squeezed shut and his only goal a climax given by _Loki_ \- the prince moaned roughly and thrust deeply into Anthony three more times before achieving his orgasm and slumping over Anthony’s back.

The unexpected weight of him made Anthony crumple slightly and it was only some long seconds later that Loki registered Anthony’s frustrated squirming and acted without thought, lifting himself slightly and ducking his own hand down to find the other man’s.

Anthony didn’t complain at the added touch and, together, they stroked Anthony quickly and firmly into his own orgasm. The clenching of his body sent some lingering pleasure through Loki before he slowly pulled himself free of the weaponsmith when Anthony’s pleasure had finished. Anthony instantly collapsed onto his stomach while Loki sat back and allowed his breathing to even out. 

Anthony was stretched out and relaxed, and Loki let his eyes run from the top of his head all the way down to his lightly curling toes as he seemed to stretch all his previously coiled muscles.

Loki couldn’t say why he let himself do it but, before Anthony could try and move, he leaned forward and placed a hand over the small of Anthony’s back. Anthony’s face was positioned away from him, so the prince couldn’t see his expression, but the smaller man went still.

Loki didn’t receive any protest, so he conjured a soft cloth and a bowl filled with water. He placed them beside his leg with one hand, while the other stayed on Anthony’s skin. When he had dipped the cloth in the warm water, he lightly brought it to touch Anthony’s inner thigh. The weaponsmith twitched slightly - but when he didn’t refuse, Loki moved the cloth to his entrance and began cleaning him.

Loki was gentle but efficient. He would have preferred to linger, to spread Anthony delicately and spend long enough taking care of him that Anthony grew aroused again, but the prince didn’t - he couldn’t. Loki kept the cleansing to practical motions, refusing to acknowledge the second intimacy that had been allowed to him tonight.**

When he was finished, Loki sent the items back to his bathing chambers and removed his hands from Anthony. It was only then that Anthony moved, pushing himself into a seated position on the edge of the bed, his back to Loki.

Loki had no idea what to say - not when all the things he wanted were things he couldn’t voice.

_Stay with me, Anthony._

In the end, Loki settled on the parameters of their deal - the only thing he could be certain of when he could hardly trust himself. “Your letter is on the desk, by my supplies.”

“Of course.” Anthony didn’t turn to him. “Thank you, Prince.”

He stood up and moved around the bed, never catching Loki’s eye as he picked up his clothing and slid them on. Loki just remained where he was, watching Anthony and wishing he could say something more.

When Anthony finally looked at the mage, it was when he was fully clothed and just about to leave. “Until next time, Prince Loki.”

“Should you require me,” Loki told him, “for either the ruse of our association or for any further assistance I may give, you need only ask for me.” 

Anthony gave a there and gone again smile and a nod before he turned on his heel and left Loki alone. The prince pulled himself from the bed and, with a gesture, he reclothed himself in the items from the floor. He stepped forward to watch, seeing Anthony just as he grabbed the parchment and unfurled it. He skimmed the document and a more genuine smirk curled at his mouth before he stilled and turned, his dark eyes catching Loki’s.

They didn’t say anything although they stared at each other for a long moment. It was Anthony who broke it in the end, rolling the letter up and tying the green ribbon back around it. He made his way to the door of Loki’s chambers, pausing just long enough to say, “Good evening, Prince.”

Loki only got the time to open his mouth but not to repeat the sentiment before the door was shutting on him. _Good evening, Anthony._

Closing his eyes, the prince let out a sigh before opening them to make his way back to his bed. It was hardly late enough to sleep, but Loki felt overwhelmingly tired

_What I would have offered, if it kept you here with me tonight._

But Loki wasn’t the one who proposed in this deal of theirs, not since the beginning. He was the one who accepted - and, once again, he was left to wait for some new reason for Anthony to seek him out. He was left to hope that that new reason would be found and asked for sooner rather than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! Did we all enjoy our fortnightly dose of Loki angst? I know I did. And so did the lovely rightsidethru. She's even chosen a theme song for Loki in between bouts of smothering and hitting him when she sends me back the betaed chapters. Which is both hilarious and wonderful, lol. ♥
> 
> But, anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed chapter 3!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! Let me just start off by telling you that work is a giant ball of suck at the moment so I can't guarantee how much I'll be writing/posting for a while. I'm gonna _try_ but we'll see. This story will continue to update regularly since it's pre-written, but yeah, just a heads up.
> 
> This also goes for comment replies, I _will_ get to them, just possibly not as speedy as normal, heh.
> 
> But, other than that nothing much else to say. I hope you enjoy the ~~angst~~ chapter :D

Months.

Loki didn’t see Anthony for _months_ after drafting the letter that granted the other Aesir access to the royal library. Anthony didn’t approach Loki, didn’t send him a note - there was nothing but the whispers that followed Anthony’s many trips to the library.

Oh, Loki also heard the rumours that existed about _them_. No one dared to whisper too loudly that their relationship was sordid in nature, but it _was_ believed that some deal had been struck between them. Loki was filled with a somewhat bitter relief that all the aspersions against someone’s character were aimed solely at him. People seemed to believe that whatever price Anthony had paid, it had been something dangerously in Loki’s favour and that Anthony was to be sympathised with and pitied.

It irritated Loki that he would be considered so callous, but the frustration was lessened by his own awareness of what he was actually sharing with Anthony. What _he_ had initiated. _Perhaps they are allowed their condemnations._

His family, at least - surprisingly enough - believed his intention was merely for the improvement of any commissions he might request from the forgemaster. Thor and, through him, his brainless friends believed (much to Loki’s irritation) that Loki was only aware of Anthony through Thor’s previous commission. Sif in particular made little jabs about how the mage was _copying_ Thor - as if he would ever wish to be seen as anything even _remotely_ like his oaf of a brother! As if he hadn’t been aware of Anthony for _decades_ before Thor stumbled upon the weaponsmith. Thor had commissioned Anthony without even _knowing_ the beauty of the craft his request would gain him!

The assumption had infuriated Loki even more when Sif doubted that Loki could even _hold_ Anthony’s friendship. He had snapped at her for that, feeling his hackles rise with the bitterness of a spot already raw inside himself because he _didn’t_ have Anthony’s friendship nor was he likely to gain it in the future - and hearing Sif’s disparaging remarks only saw salt being ground into an already painful wound.

One that only continued to fester with every week that Anthony stayed away from him.

Loki knew the distance was doing their ruse little favours; had the illusion been the only thing he had wanted between them, Loki would have been visiting Anthony strategically, making sure they were seen together publically even if he spent only a few actual minutes in the other’s company.

The prince found, though, that every time he dared entertain the thought of pursuing time in Anthony’s company, Loki could do no more than visualise approaching Anthony’s workshop before his decision began to waver. He would be willing to just be _around_ Anthony, but was unsure how to approach the weaponsmith without his motives being misconstrued - or worse: his motives being seen _correctly_ and for Anthony to realise that they were born from... interest, desire, _affection_.

Loki didn’t want a friendly overture to be read wrong and for discomfort to blossom between them both, therefore keeping Anthony from offering their deal again. Loki found he couldn’t anticipate Anthony‘s thoughts and actions, which was both an endless and interesting fascination for the mage, as well as a cause for deep uncertainty. Loki couldn’t take the risk of revealing too much of himself in case it lost him his chances to be with the other again - because Loki only wanted, _needed_ more.

The mage had often cursed himself in the weeks that passed for being too cowardly the last time they had been together, when he had forced Anthony to hide his face rather than to stare into Anthony’s eyes like he had wanted. Loki also regretted, as he always did, not asking Anthony to stay with him through the night.

But regrets were foolish when Loki couldn’t change the outcome: when, even after replaying his decision, Loki knew he couldn’t choose an alternative path - not when it came to having Anthony remain.

Loki had even taken to lingering in the library when he had free moments and when he could find reasons to place himself there, looking in each aisle and searching out a certain energy signature

He hadn’t had any luck, but he kept persisting; whether through good fortune or mere accident, Loki found himself in the library when Anthony stepped through the doors.

Loki wouldn’t have noticed anyone under normal circumstances, engrossed in the books he’d been perusing, but Anthony’s energy was something that the mage paid particular attention to. He froze halfway through reading a sentence, his eyes staring unseeingly at the page as he reached out with his magic to confirm what he already knew was correct.

Anthony wouldn’t have seen him yet; they were aisles apart, but Loki moved quickly. He didn’t go directly towards the other, but he slipped into an area nearby and skimmed the titles for something that could plausibly be of interest to him. The mage found the first useful book and was pulling it from the shelf when he heard Anthony walk past.

He kept his attention focused on the now open book, but he was listening intently with his heart pounding when he heard Anthony stop the next aisle over before walking backwards to the aisle that he had just passed. Loki could feel Anthony’s eyes on him a second before Anthony called softly, “Prince Loki?”

Loki took in a careful breath even as he lifted his head and looked at the other, putting a small note of surprise into his voice as he responded, “Ah. Anthony.”

Anthony still seemed tentative as he stepped into the aisle, as if not sure how to begin their interactions when there wasn’t already an obvious subject to discuss. It deflated Loki slightly, realising that this _wouldn’t_ end in the night with the other he was already craving. The mere sight of Anthony so close made the prince feel flush with attraction and desire. The sight of Anthony’s haphazard and ruffled hair made Loki want to run his fingers through it to rearrange it back into the other’s usual style or grip it in his fist as he pressed Anthony’s mouth to his skin, pushed his mouth _down_.

Loki could remember the feeling of Anthony between his legs so _vividly_ and the mage could already feel himself twitch at the remembered pleasure. He had to stop those thoughts - _now_.

“I haven’t seen you for a while, Prince Loki.” Anthony smiled, a hint of his uncertainty catching at the edge of his mouth. “We have both been busy.”

“Yes,” Loki agreed, snapping his book shut and turning more fully to face the other. “We have.” He cleared his throat softly. “People have been speaking very highly of your work lately, but I was hardly surprised to hear such compliments.”

Anthony’s grin became a bit more genuine, filled with pride and happiness as he teased, “You flatter me, Prince.” He noticed the misstep the moment he finished. “Loki,” he corrected, but the pause had been too significant and the weaponsmith’s voice had become stilted, his shoulders tight with tension. “You flatter me, _Prince Loki_.”

It was the perfect chance, laid right before him and Loki let himself smile, even while his nervousness still twisted his stomach. “I do believe the use of this library has more than publicised our friendship. You have no need to call me by title when there is no ceremony to attend.”

Anthony was far too intelligent to not understand what the prince was doing: laying the very groundwork for their ruse, the very _nature_ of what Anthony would be allowed when they were seen together. And yet the weaponsmith still looked surprised at the lenience Loki was granting him. Anthony also didn’t look like he knew what to say. His eyes fell to Loki’s book and he grasped onto it as a topic of conversation almost clumsily. “So, what has drawn you here?”

“Spellwork, as usual. I assume you have some new commission to research?”

“Yes,” Anthony nodded sharply. “It’s useful, being able to look through the tomes.”

“I have no doubt.”

Anthony smiled again, but his eyes were still tight as he nodded and stepped backwards. “I will leave you to your task.”

Loki didn’t want to let him go, but he knew the conversation was unlikely to improve and it made him want to sigh. It made his shoulders want to droop. Loki didn’t let it, however, and merely told the other, “Good luck with your search, Anthony.”

“And you, too… uh, Loki.” Anthony turned on his heel, all but fleeing the stacks; Loki almost leant heavily against the shelves but settled for merely pressing weary fingers to his forehead.

He was glad no one had been around to see them because the very _wooden_ nature of their interaction would have quite successfully destroyed any chance they would have had at being believed as friends.

It made Loki bitterly grateful that he’d never sought the other out if this was the reaction he would have received. Anthony had been uncomfortable in the prince’s very presence; how did that bode for fostering a friendship or more between them?

It was only in the safety of Loki’s chambers that Anthony seemed at least somewhat relaxed, much like how he had been before their deal began - before the weaponsmith seemed to question their every interaction. It was in the safety of Loki’s chambers Anthony knew _what_ he was doing; he was there for Loki’s pleasure as well as his own. He was there to do something he had shared with countless lovers, and Anthony was the most _natural_ when he was allowed to forget who Loki was - because when the weaponsmith _remembered_ , all his discomfort and his reticence came back. 

Because Loki was not who he wanted as a lover or as a friend.

It was that thought that made Loki clench his fist and teleport away from the library, leaving Anthony alone to his research - leaving him _free_ of Loki’s association.

If the other Aesir wanted to seek Loki out, he knew how and where to find him; it was the same thing that Anthony had known and chosen to ignore for months now.

* * *

Loki had wanted to avoid the library after that, but he’d been unable to. He couldn’t afford to damage an already unstable perception, and they both would hardly have a chance to _improve_ their interactions if he ran from the slightest hint of uneasiness that Anthony showed.

It turned out, however, that the mage’s fears were baseless as he didn’t see Anthony in the library over the next week. Loki only ventured there twice - but the few, quiet enquires he made proved that Anthony hadn’t visited once. Loki wondered if Anthony wasn’t keeping distance from _him_.

He didn’t get long to nurse that particular ache before the very opposite occurred. Loki had been walking through the shelves again when he’d felt the familiar spike of energy from Anthony’s presence. His heart had raced, _foolishly_ , but he’d stayed where he was this time. Loki did keep an eye on the other’s energy and was perplexed to find he was moving closer, only in a manner that Loki couldn’t quite puzzle the meaning behind.

It was only when he got near that Loki grasped the pattern of it. Anthony was halting his steps for half a moment at the beginning of every aisle as he looked down each of them. It wasn’t until he reached Loki’s and caught his confused eyes that he finally turned _into_ an aisle and walked directly up to Loki.

“Anthony, hello,” Loki began, but Anthony interrupted him before he could continue.

“Are you able to come to my workshop this afternoon?”

Loki blinked slowly. “Pardon?”

“I know that you are busy,” Anthony said, sounding frustrated--but not, it seemed, at Loki. “I know that you may not be able, but I hope that you can. I hope,” and his eyes that had dropped slightly came to hold Loki’s, “I hope that I will be able to make it up to you.”

Loki knew exactly what the other man was implying, and the determined strides, the far bolder manner of speaking suddenly became understandable. 

“Ah,” Loki murmured. “And why would you have me visit?”

Anthony let out an angry breath. “There is a man who is commissioning some work from me, and he does not _believe_ that you have truly given me permission to use this library. He thinks, _ludicrously_ , that I have lied. Hah!” Anthony scoffed. “That I would lie about something with your name? As if _his_ threats are in anyway more fear inducing than _yours_.”

Loki had gone cold with pure fury and kept his voice calm through nothing but ingrained instinct. “He _threatened_ you?”

Anthony waved a dismissive, agitated hand. “It was implied, but--”

“No, what did he _say?_ ” The sharp demand in his tone made Anthony blink, only to notice the barely concealed anger behind the prince’s eyes.

“... He wished to gain an item for free in return for his silence. He will want more, of course,” Anthony added, “upon gaining any success with his current attempt at blackmail.”

Oh, Loki was _furious_ at the very thought; how _dare_ the man try and corner Anthony, to put him in a position that might end up with _any_ number of favours. It made Loki’s blood boil: the very idea that Anthony could have been in that position and forced to, or _asked_ to, submit to this stranger in any way. Loki clenched his fists and only just kept the crackle of his magic under control.

“Loki?” Anthony asked softly and with noticeable concern. “Loki, it is not... well, it _is_ a slur against you and against myself, but it is negligible. His arrogance and presumption - they were foolish, but this can be fixed and that is why I’m asking you to help me.”

It was Anthony’s confusion and worry that cut through the heat of Loki’s rage and forced him to take a breath and calm himself down.

_He is not yours to defend or show romantic possession of; you have no right and Anthony will not understand why this infuriates you so completely._

“I understand. But the sheer _audacity_ of believing I could be tricked, that you would be so _imbecilic_ -”

“Which is why, if you come to my workshop when he visits, it can be fixed.”

Anthony’s response made Loki momentarily ignore his anger to focus on the man in front of him. The weaponsmith didn’t look uncomfortable or as if he was caught out in a lie, but his chin was tilted up stubbornly. Loki was still unconvinced. “This could be cleared without my presence; the mere _publicising_ of our relationship would keep his words from affecting you,” the prince remarked thoughtfully. “Why would you come to me and ask for this with the price we both know I’ll claim?”

Anthony’s eyes finally shifted from his. “Will you deny my request?”

“I will if you do not answer me _honestly_.” An empty threat, but one Anthony didn’t know was such.

Anthony snapped his attention back to Loki, his mouth falling open slightly in surprise, before he closed his eyes and let out a harsh breath. 

“I need people to see us together,” Anthony admitted grudgingly. “I was going to have you come to my workshop and... ask that you are seen with me more often.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I am doubted from every corner, I am _mocked_ from every corner for the nature of our relationship and what it is implied to be...” Anthony grimaced before clenching his own fist and glaring at Loki in frustrated helplessness. “I am good at my work, and I have _never_ earned my reputation on anything but my trade, but it is now doubted.”

“And you need me to prove that it should not be,” Loki murmured.

Loki swallowed, feeling the first twinge of guilt and a twist of self-loathing knot his stomach. Loki would have done this for Anthony without a price merely because it was important to Anthony and something he asked for. Loki had wanted the other Aesir’s friendship and _companionship_ long before he sought out this deal with him. The prince had wanted Anthony sexually before he’d craved his association, yes, but it still didn’t alter the fact that Loki wanted _both_ now.

And Loki couldn’t refuse the deal that had been offered, but...

“I cannot accept your proposition for the appearance of a friendship.” Anthony’s face twisted angrily and he clenched his fists, but Loki quickly and calmly continued to add, “But I will accept it in exchange for appearing at your workshop today and for as long as you require it of me.” 

Anthony’s surprise made his face and hands slacken, and Loki wished he could stroke the other’s cheek and soothe him. 

“This public association was bartered as part of our deal,” Loki continued instead, knowing they were alone and that he was free to use less broad terms. “I didn’t give due consideration to how ignoring it would affect you.”

“So...” Anthony started slowly, “you’ll make time to publicise that we only have a friendship between us?”

“Yes,” Loki agreed. “We will associate continually for as long as our arrangement lasts at no costs to either of us except for our time.”

Anthony still seemed thrown through a loop, but he was catching on quickly. “But today will be different.”

“Yes,” Loki told him. “I will require a day’s warning in the future - but in the case of today, you will have me this afternoon and, in return, I will have you.” He raised his eyebrows, hoping he didn’t show how uncertain he felt. “Do you accept?”

Anthony actually smiled, looking at Loki like he’d been the cause of a pleasant surprise. “I do. Although, once again, I find myself wondering why people seem to think so poorly of you; I have yet to find a reason to do it myself.” The answer stunned Loki and he couldn’t fully keep it from his face, but Anthony didn’t mention it; instead, Anthony merely told him: “Three hours from now, I will see you at my workshop.”

“Yes,” Loki told the other Aesir, barely feeling his mouth move. “You will.”

Anthony flashed the mage one more, brighter grin, and he even waved before turning on his heel and leaving. There was an added lightness to the weaponsmith’s step that hadn’t been there when he’d arrived. Loki was left to stare after him, feeling something painfully like hope swirl through his chest - but he did his best to stamp it down.

Loki knew it was too early for it to be possible; he knew it was a foolish wish to believe it could happen at all, but... but he still wondered.

_Could Anthony grow to like me as well?_

* * *

Loki arrived at Anthony’s workshop a little earlier than the allotted time, finding the door open and cautiously walking inside. He couldn’t hear any conversation, but he still adopted a casual air in case the man giving Anthony such _infuriating_ ultimatums was already there.

The customer wasn’t, however; the only person in the workshop was Anthony, and he was sketching on some parchment with a quill. The forgemaster looked up when he heard Loki’s feet on the floor and gave a small grin. “I had thought you might arrive early.” 

Anthony put down his implements and turned on his chair to fully face Loki. There was a slight frown puckering his brow, but there was still an ease to his posture which left Loki doubtful that the frown related to his presence. He gestured almost nervously to Loki’s left, and the mage followed the movement--only to have his eyebrows rise, startled, at what he found.

“I cleared you a space,” Anthony explained, sounding unsure. “I had thought... had you - were we friends, you might come here to do your own work?”

Loki was honestly surprised at the weaponsmith’s perceptiveness. It was something he had often pictured himself doing if he had truly been friends with Anthony. For Anthony to guess that he’d like it…? It made Loki fight down a warm smile. “Thank you, Anthony; it will do well.”

Making his way over, Loki had his back to Anthony and allowed himself a small expression of his full pleasure in the curve of a grin. It took the matter of moments to pluck items from his chambers and teleport them onto the desk set aside for the mage’s work. 

When he felt eyes on him, Loki glanced over his shoulder to find Anthony watching him with unmasked curiosity, which caused Loki’s smile to tip up further - even when Anthony became guarded upon being caught watching. “Are you curious about magic, Anthony?”

“I have a healthy appreciation,” he answered carefully, which made Loki hold in a sigh.

He knew that Anthony had used runes of power in his crafting, that he had obviously spoken with and quizzed Alfheim weaponsmiths on their craft to better perfect his own wares - but it was still something not to be spoken about outside of his craft. 

The Aesir, after all, did not _like_ magic unless it was directly benefiting them, and even then only when performed by a woman or the Allfather. It was when it was done by a male, by _him_ , that it was to be scorned, mocked and avoided at all costs.

But alone with no one to sneer at his interest and in the company of a _practitioner_ of magic, Loki had hoped to inspire more. Anthony placed runes on his blades, and he sought knowledge not just about metalwork - surely the forgemaster was just filled with instinctive reticence?

“Should you _become_ curious,” Loki told him, “you need only ask.”

Loki turned back to what he was doing, but he paused when he heard shoes on the floor and Anthony asking, much closer than before: “I thought magical texts were inherently magical?”

“They are,” Loki agreed.

“Then does that not affect the way you use magic on them?”

It was so perfectly astute, so perfectly _intelligent_ and filled with nothing but honest interest that Loki could have kissed the man. The mage turned to him instead, seeing bright eyes and a beautiful mind and answering with barely constrained delight, “I’m impressed at your observation. You’re quite right.” Anthony perked up at being complimented and encouraged and, when Loki gestured him closer, he came to stand beside the prince. “But it was inconvenient, at times - so I found my own way around such limitations.”

Finding no problem with explaining such an innocent method to a non-magic user, Loki let Anthony pepper their conversation with more questions as the mage described how he circumvented that particular problem. The conversation didn’t last longer than ten minutes as Loki continued to set up his work station, but it left the air between them relaxed, and it left Loki fighting against the expression of fondness that wanted to settle across his face.

He could tell Anthony had more questions but was restraining himself. The weaponsmith had also refrained from coming too close into Loki’s personal space or touching any of the items on his desk. Loki had even attempted to show Anthony a book but, while his eyes had roamed the tome, he hadn’t reached for it.

When the other Aesir’s questions had been answered and there was nothing left for either of them to say on the topic, they fell into silence. They were both leaning on different desks now (Anthony had separated them when the conversation had petered out), just watching each other. Anthony was noticeably awkward while Loki was trying to puzzle out what was holding the other man back from relaxing completely. 

Loki found it depressingly likely that an uncertainty or unwillingness to open himself up to _Loki_ was the mitigating factor. He buried his sadness at the thought deep within himself and shifted their conversation to the one area Anthony was always comfortable with: their deal and the parameters surrounding it - the constraints that Anthony believed and _wanted_ to see in their deal of emotionless, _simple_ transactions.

“When will he arrive?” Loki enquired.

“Soon enough,” Anthony replied. “I asked you to come early should we need any time to... acquaint ourselves with one another.”

“Grow comfortable?” Loki suggested pointedly - well aware of the tension that already filled the room between them.

Anthony sighed. “Yes.”

“And how would you have us manage that?” Loki asked, feeling irritation begin to form inside of him. 

Their friendship might be an illusion, but it was a reality the prince _wanted_. While Loki knew Anthony had far more to lose when it came to his reputation - and that Anthony had far more worries about being discovered - Loki still had just as much to lose. The discovery of their relations might lower the Aesir’s already shaky opinions of Loki - but, more importantly than that, it would lose him _Anthony_. The mage’s moments shared with the other man, the beautiful feel of Anthony underneath him - it was something Loki never wanted to be without.

The prince couldn’t afford for their association to not be accepted, understood, and _bought_ by the populace. He needed it. He needed to be able to keep Anthony.

Anthony had been fidgeting in response to his question, but he eventually stilled and closed his eyes; after a moment, he opened them and outright blurted, “I don’t know how to be your friend.”

Loki couldn’t hold back his flinch in time, but he did mask any further emotions from slipping onto his face. It didn’t stop the dark and bitter thoughts that followed: _And how could you, when I have no friends to speak of or to emulate?_

And how could he when, by all accounts, Anthony did not even _want_ to be Loki’s?

“I know how to be friends with most people,” Anthony continued quietly, making Loki’s cheek jump with that painful implication. “Be it loudly with chatter of women and drink or quietly with discussion about the perfection of a good blade.” He was frowning deeply. “But you constantly elude my understanding, Prince Loki.” 

The last, at least, made Loki feel mildly less hurt. He still felt bitter, knowing that - once again - his _peculiarities_ kept him from what he wanted but that, at least, could be... mended. It just depended on how much he was willing to reveal.

It left them in silence for a long time as Loki ordered his thoughts. Eventually, he slowly began to admit, “I find battle tedious and I always have. I am impressed by skill and give respect to those who deserve it. I admire those who seek and learn from knowledge. I do not suffer fools nor insults to my person or to those I hold dear.” 

Loki swallowed, remembering earlier in the afternoon when he’d learned of the insults to Anthony - _people I hold dear_ \- and feeling like he was admitting far too much; he hurried to move on to the next. 

“I find wit and the skilled use of one’s words to be delightful, even when created at my own expense. I prefer to work in silence but will share another’s company if we are both lost in our respective tasks. I prefer singular conversation to that of a group, and I...” Loki paused his explanations and raised his eyes up from where they had fallen to Anthony’s shoulder. The Aesir was watching him with wide eyes. “I do not lie as often as people think that I do.” 

Loki felt... vulnerable when he finished. While it was true that he didn’t always lie, being so artless with his words was rare and uncomfortable for him. All of his statements were observations that could be made of him, but were things none save his mother would have been likely to notice - or, more importantly, have cared to note. He was showing Anthony who he was: telling the other Aesir the friend, the _man_ , he could be for and to Anthony.

“I don’t drink often or I’ll drink too much,” Anthony murmured quietly, his eyes somewhere near Loki’s chest as he frowned and mulled over his words. Loki just felt his heart race. “I like to spar more than I like to battle. I like to feel like I’ve done my best and kept myself sharp without having to slay someone to accomplish it. I’d rather build the weapons than be the one to use them - but I’d pick one up, if I needed to.” 

His eyes rose to hold Loki’s. “I like to know about everything.” The other man grinned a little. “I could get lost in the library and never come out, just trying to read all I can lay my hands upon. I like to work alone, but I tend to forget the time or to eat or sleep when I do. I know a lot of people but would say that I do not have many friends. I do not suffer fools, either, but have to put up with them more than I wish to.” His smile became a little softer as he finished gently, “And I find magic fascinating, but I could rarely say that aloud.”

Loki felt like every breath was difficult. His chest felt tight and like it burned with the feelings he had for this man. Anthony had given him facts, had just _done the same thing_ , and had given Loki whole new things to know about him. Things Loki had grasped the edges of but never seen the full shape, not until they were finally put into words.

 _Magic; he finds magic **fascinating**!_ Loki was almost giddy at the thought of that, but he had to be careful not to let it spill out.

“We have some similarities,” Loki eventually said. “We are both scholars, in our own ways.”

“I’ve never befriended a scholar before,” Anthony remarked with a grin.

It made one tug at Loki’s own mouth. “I believe that you have now.”

Loki had meant it as a truth, a genuine offer of friendship, but he saw the moment Anthony registered something different. He blinked and his smile faded; the shorter Aesir glanced at the door and nodded. “Right. Yes. He will be here soon.”

 _I did not mean..._ Loki wanted to say, but Anthony was already moving to his work station.

“Is there anything further I can get you?” Anthony enquired, nerves settling back over him and making him twitch.

“No,” Loki quietly answered before turning away and back to his things. He pitched his voice to be heard, rather than stay looking at the other man who had, unknowingly, rebuffed him again. “I am fine.”

It was a dismissal and Anthony read it as such, murmuring something in response before leaving Loki to his work. Loki closed his eyes for a moment before taking a seat and flipping open one of his tomes. _He did not know that was what you meant_ , Loki scolded himself, trying not to read too deeply into the other’s answer. _He thought it was part of your ruse and what else would he assume? You have barely had a chance to prove yourself to him. You will need time, and this deal with grant you it._

Because it was just what the inclusion of this association had given him: The illusion of friendship would require its continual maintenance and, during that time, Loki would use it to foster an actual relationship - be it only platonic or something else. 

It could prove the catalyst the mage needed to get Anthony to think of him, to ask for him and _want_ him when there was no arrangement between them. He just needed Anthony to desire their time together as much as Loki did.

And he did desire it. His skin was already prickling with the knowledge of the other so close to him, at hearing him putter around his workshop. Loki imagined, if just for a moment, a time when this was a true relationship, one where they were waiting for someone to visit Anthony but not to prove a ruse or fulfil an agreement. Loki pictured an image where they were openly acknowledged lovers, and they only needed the man to visit and leave so that they could then spend the evening together.

Unfortunately, the prince had to let the daydream fade from his mind faster than he would have liked. He couldn’t afford fantasies anywhere but in the sanctity and safety of his chambers.

For now, Loki was only a friend through illusion and a lover through necessity, and he couldn’t afford to dream of more when it might not ever come to pass.

* * *

It took the man another hour to arrive and, ironically, the time spent alone with Anthony made Loki... relax. They worked easily together - although Loki did have to get used to Anthony’s abrupt habit of cursing fluidly and foully; the first time it had happened, Anthony had been so embarrassed and apologetic that Loki just wanted to laugh and haul him closer into an affectionate kiss.

Loki also had to admit to a certain... disinterest in his own work. While he did read his books and make notes, he found himself glancing over his shoulder carefully and letting himself just... watch the other man: the way Anthony’s back was hunched over his work desk, chewing on a broken quill, and how he would stretch his arm to grab things while the pull of the fabric on his back, thighs, and bum would follow that stretch of his body. It made Loki shift in his seat, all too easily remembering the look of the other man without clothing - the feel that came with sliding into Anthony‘s body.

Loki had needed to turn away and forcibly focus on his work more than once, if only to keep his mind from wandering further and of thinking of just _what_ he would be doing with Anthony later that evening.

The prince also found himself shying away from thinking of it as an arrangement. He knew it wasn’t wise - that forgetting such an important thing would only hurt him in the future - but, just this once, just _tonight_ , Loki wanted to pretend. He wanted to indulge the fantasy of something more between the both of them - perhaps not partners, but at least friends who also shared physical pleasure with each other.

Loki found himself wanting it the longer he sat in Anthony’s space: invited, welcomed, _accepted._

It was as he was thinking of that, his eyes on his book but his mind miles away, that Loki was brought abruptly from his more pleasant musings by the sound of approaching feet. He stilled and looked over his shoulder quickly, catching Anthony’s gaze before they both turned back to their work in unison, preparing for what was to come.

The earlier fury that had been lingering in his bones began to spark with new life as he waited to see just _who_ had dared to insult them and sought to blackmail Anthony. Loki was tempted to cloak himself to see how the man reacted when he thought Anthony alone. He didn’t, although the mage did stand quickly and quietly, taking his book and pressing himself into a far corner so that Loki could face the man but not be easily noticed in the beginning of the confrontation.

“Hello, Howardson,” the man greeted before even fully coming into the workshop. He placed a palm on the doorframe and leant half in and half out of the room. His smile was wide and full of smug confidence; the Aesir didn’t even _bother_ to check the room for others. _Fool_. “Those had better be my weapons you’re working on.”

Anthony went still before turning his head to eye the man, his face blank but his eyes hard. “I have a waiting list - as I informed you before, Geirson.”

“And you would be wise to place me on top of it,” the nobleman told Anthony, his voice going cold. “Or you may find yourself regretting the lie you have attempted.”

“I find it difficult to believe,” Loki began calmly, enjoying the way Geirson went as stiff as a board and how Anthony finally smirked, “that a man of Anthony’s intellect would seek to forge _my_ name on a document of such importance.”

The sudden pallor to the man’s complexion was exceedingly gratifying. “P-Prince Loki.”

“Alf Geirson.”

The man licked his lips. “I... I had not thought that...”

“Yes, Anthony was quite pointed in explaining what you had not expected,” Loki said, stepping away from the wall and closing his book as he did. He didn’t stop until he was standing directly beside Anthony. “I do not take kindly to threats against my friends.” 

“F-Forgive me, Prince; I had not known that you and he were...”

“Friends?” Anthony suggested when Geirson trailed off. “I did attempt to inform you, but you were far more concerned with lowering the price of my wares.” Anthony’s eyes narrowed. “Until they were free.” 

The man looked as if he wanted to swallow his own sword rather than continue the conversation he was in. “I... I had not seen evidence. I had wished to make sure that the Prince’s name was not used unwittingly.”

He looked almost relieved at coming to such a conclusion as he attempted to backtrack his way through the conversation; however, Geirson found his audience was less than impressed or receptive to his excuses.

“And I would be foolish enough to incur such wrath?” Anthony asked, sounding incredulous. “Not only from Loki but from the Allfather, as well?”

Geirson was not oblivious to the lack of title on Loki’s name or the lack of recrimination for it; it made something sweetly satisfied fill Loki.

“When I find a place and a person I am fond of, I tend _not_ to publicise it,” Loki informed him. “This allows me my solitude _away_ from buffoons who seek to interfere with and irritate me.” Loki’s eyes narrowed. “I become _incredibly_ annoyed when such _idiots_ seek to threaten harm upon my friends.”

“I d-did not mean to… I was… it was a m-misunderstanding.” Geirson was almost tripping over his words as he desperately attempted to reverse what was happening.

It was far too late for that.

Loki only knew the man in the loosest sense. Geirson was a courtier of little interest and very rarely did he have anything to do directly with the royal family. Loki had heard rumours among the servants that he was a keeper of secrets for the right price--but had seen no reason to interfere. The man, however, had _stupidly_ assumed Anthony was a similar target.

“I find such a _lack_ of proper research to be a poor quality to be found in a courtier. I think a review of who hold such positions will be in order in the very near future.”

Geirson’s eyes flew wide. “P-Please, Prince Loki, I did not--”

“I do not tolerate fools,” Loki announced swiftly, cutting the man off. “I have nothing further to say.” He glanced at Anthony whose eyes were almost glowing with vindictive pleasure and delight. It made Loki’s body thrum, but he still finished exactly as he originally planned. “If Anthony has no further use of you, I would have you leave.”

Turning on his heel and ignoring the man’s blubbering, Loki made his way back to his desk. He kept his back to the man but listened intently as Geirson turned his attempted apologies and pleading on Anthony, who allowed it for only a few seconds before cutting the courtier down just as decidedly. 

“You had your chance to listen to me,” Anthony told him. “You declined. Now I think you best listen to your Prince and leave my workshop.”

Loki heard a few more pleas but, upon receiving no weakening of their resolve, Geirson was eventually forced to leave Anthony’s workshop with his tail between his legs and his position amongst the court hanging perilously.

When Loki heard Anthony abruptly laugh, he shifted to face the other man with a small smirk on his face that only widened at Anthony’s bubbling joy.

“Hah!” Anthony crowed. “His _face_. Oh, Loki, he was _petrified_. He came here to gloat and slither like slime; he had no idea you would be here, and you were _wonderful_.” The weaponsmith was almost bouncing in his delight, his words falling out as the most beautiful praise. “I had not expected it to be so perfect!”

Anthony was flushed, full of success and the thrill of his escape, and he continued to luxuriate in it as Loki watched. Anthony had never been under threat, not truly, not from the moment Loki had discovered the attempt - but now he was free from all scrutiny and Loki would see to it that he remained so. 

But for now... for now Loki felt his own glow of amusement and triumph become something deeper, something _baser_. It wasn’t the same flush of achievement that saw Thor seeking out women after a battle, but it was similar enough; it made Loki twitch his hand to send Anthony’s workshop door pulling shut.

Anthony glanced at it, shocked out of his jubilance and confused at the gesture, before looking back at Loki - who was already stepping closer to invade the weaponsmith’s personal space. The mage reached out when he was near enough and lightly cupped Anthony’s neck. Anthony blinked with surprise and stared up at Loki, his lips slightly parted before he noticeably swallowed.

“You have fulfilled your part,” Anthony murmured, not taking his eyes from Loki’s.

“How astute,” Loki replied, unable to resist bringing his mouth down to move along Anthony’s jaw, his eyes closing in bliss at the faint roughness beneath his lips. The prince even slid his hand down to Anthony’s shoulder so that he could move to Anthony’s neck and scrape his teeth along the skin.

He heard Anthony let out a breath. “You wish to,” Loki felt another swallow, “claim your repayment?”

Loki wished it would not be used in such terms and his movements stalled slightly at the reminder, but he still answered: “Yes.”

“And when,” Anthony replied, angling his neck further to the side to allow Loki his access, “would I be of use to you, Prince?”

Loki knew he should wait, that he should pull back and request Anthony to come to his chambers at some time in the future or even teleport _them_ to his chambers - but Loki couldn’t wait and being in his own rooms was not what he suddenly, desperately wanted.

“You have a bed, Anthony.” The mage pulled back and away to find Anthony’s eyes wide and gratifyingly darker than normal. “I suggest you lead me to it.”

Anthony opened his mouth - whether it was in protest or even an alternate suggestion, Loki didn’t know for the other Aesir didn’t say anything. He pressed his lips together again and nodded. The weaponsmith glanced at his workshop briefly before stepping around Loki and walking towards the only other door in the room. Anthony made a gesture for Loki to follow and, as much as Loki disliked the disinterested, stiff way he was being directed, he still followed after him.

The workshop and forge was a separate building on Anthony’s modest property. Loki was led through the small garden that divided the two buildings before leading them directly into the back of the main house. The prince had never been inside Anthony’s home before, so he glanced around at everything he could see. The area they entered could have been a dining area in a normal household but for the numerous items scattered over every surface and floor. It was more of a storage room for Anthony’s workshop and it made Loki smile slightly at the sight.

He was led from there through a hallway with rooms branching off the corridor that Loki could only catch glimpses of the interiors before reaching a final, closed door. Anthony hesitated in front of it before squaring his shoulders and pushing it open to step inside. It was Anthony’s bedchambers, and Loki found himself looking at everything, trying to mentally store and remember all that he could. 

The room was large, not as grand as the prince’s own, but still likely the largest in the house. Anthony’s bed was simple but wide and able to fit two people easily. His walls had a set of wrought iron artistically curling to look like a stunning depiction of Yggdrasil. Loki was certain it was something Anthony had crafted himself. Loki knew the detailing would be intricate and finely crafted, but he made himself turn away to see the rest of the room.

A beautiful painting of the forests of Vanaheim also hung on the wall while a shelf of books lined a side of the room. There, too, was a worktable full of sketches and bitten quills. There were also unusual trinkets unrelated to the weaponsmith’s craft that littered the place and, while they should have seemed out of place, they felt nothing of the kind. The whole room felt very fitting for Anthony.

A firm touch to his arm brought Loki from his contemplation and his memorizing of the other’s space. Anthony moved beside him, and the tight edge to his mouth and tension to his shoulders showed a discomfort Loki only took a moment to place. The hunch was not from having Loki claim his debt; it was an almost _embarrassed_ curve. It had been there from the moment the prince had suggested using Anthony’s home instead of his own. Loki had been too distracted by the glimpse into Anthony’s life to notice it before. 

Anthony had his pride and, while Loki could admit that there was a vast difference in material wealth between the both of them, it still meant _nothing_ to Loki. He wanted to say something, to reassure Anthony - to put into words something that Loki didn’t know how to describe without giving himself away - but he didn’t get a chance.**

Anthony’s mouth was quick to press against his own. It was forceful and Anthony’s tongue even swiped Loki’s lip, trying to tempt the mage into forgetting what he had seen, and the trick worked--shamefully, it made Loki lose every thought that wasn’t the man against him. Loki’s eyes fell closed and he gripped Anthony by the hip, pulling him until they were flush against one another, then deepening the kiss. Loki’s free hand moved, sliding up Anthony’s arm before ending on his neck, his thumb brushing just under the other’s jaw to press just enough to feel Anthony’s fluttering pulse.

They kissed deeply and Loki found himself moaning at a talented brush of Anthony’s tongue. When they eventually broke apart, they were panting and Loki wasted no time reaching for Anthony’s tunic and assisting him in pulling it over his shoulders. The prince tossed it to the floor, feeling Anthony’s hands move to grasp his own and to do the same.

It was easy from there to kiss Anthony and encourage him deeper into the room until his back was to the bed, his legs knocking against the frame. Anthony broke the kiss, mouthing along Loki’s jaw before moving to his neck. Loki let out a huff of breath that ended in a small moan at the feeling of Anthony’s lips sucking lightly on his pale skin. The taller Aesir tilted his neck to the side and closed his eyes, his hands settling on Anthony’s hips while his thumbs stroked just above the other man’s pants.

“Shall we undress, Prince?” Anthony asked when he finally finished, the skin leaving his lips but his mouth still pressed against it; the weaponsmith’s breathing came heavy in the quiet of Anthony’s bedchambers. “Or shall we not?” He chuckled a little and dragged his mouth down to Loki’s collarbone, whispering: “How shall you have me tonight, Prince Loki?”

Loki shivered and was torn momentarily between continuing to let that mouth travel over his skin or to pull Anthony up and into a kiss. But when Anthony’s mouth continued its exploration, brushing feather light touches - _kisses_ \- across his skin, Loki found himself helpless to stop them.

The mage let his eyes stay closed as the rough feel of Anthony’s facial hair tantalised him, drinking in the light touch of the forgemaster’s lips and the occasional moments when that distracting mouth pressed harder. Anthony explored the entire top half off the prince’s chest and Loki only brought his hand up to bury in Anthony’s hair when his attention was given to Loki’s nipples. Anthony licked them into peaks and mouthed at them with tongue and lips until Loki had no choice but to draw the shorter man up into a kiss. The other option was to push him further down, to push Anthony to his knees and get his mouth on Loki’s arousal in a way the prince would never tire of.

Kissing Anthony was its own pleasure, but Loki hardly got to enjoy it before Anthony was breaking them apart, his voice rough as his hands ran along Loki’s sides, sensual and slow. “How shall you have me, Loki?”

His eyes were dark and locked on Loki’s, a small smile twitching at his mouth as his head tilted back ever so slightly. He was pure desire, the product of Loki’s fantasy, the mage’s _only_ fantasy anymore, and Loki didn’t want to stop looking at him.

Not tonight.

Reaching for Anthony’s pants, Loki began to undo them. Anthony quickly moved to do the same to him, hardly seeming bothered by the lack of a verbal response if it got them closer to what they both wanted.

Anthony was the first to settle on the bed, lying on his back atop the mattress, erect and watching Loki with desire-filled eyes. Loki stared for a long moment, storing the sight in his mind and feeling like he was Anthony’s choice, his _lover_ , the person the weaponsmith had taken home from a tavern. The prince felt like Anthony wanted him, too; Loki climbed on the bed to kiss Anthony quickly with that in mind and thus also stopped any chance Anthony had to ruin it for him. Anthony angled himself into the kiss, pressing his chest against Loki’s and kissing him intensely

When they broke apart, Anthony was panting harshly, his eyes half-lidded even as he brought a hand to push lightly against Loki’s chest. He started to move, aiming to twist onto his hands and knees - but Loki caught his shoulder and kept him in place. 

Anthony frowned, glancing at Loki’s hand and then between their bodies. When his eyes came up to Loki’s, they were difficult to read.

“I’m surprised, Prince,” the weaponsmith said with his usual tease; the title had become almost a nickname between them now when they were together like this. Anthony’s mouth was quirked in a small smile as he spoke before he was lowering himself back down, placing his weight on his forearms to look up at Loki.

Anthony’s body was accepting and relaxed as he agreed to the silent request without further words, and Loki dragged his eyes away from the other’s to move his body down the bed, resting himself between Anthony’s quickly spread legs.

Conjuring the oil from his chambers was an easy feat; watching Anthony grip a pillow to slide underneath his lower back to help position himself was not. Anthony’s motions were easy and born of familiarity. Loki gained a sudden, harsh spike of jealousy at imagining the other people who Anthony had taken to his bed - _this_ bed. The mage forced his eyes away from Anthony’s as he clenched his teeth, forcing himself to ignore the thought or to visualise Anthony with others. Loki focused on opening the oil, letting a small amount of the slick liquid pour into his fingers before moving them to Anthony’s entrance.

Anthony had shifted, drawing up his legs; Loki couldn’t resist encouraging him to slip one over Loki’s shoulder. Anthony allowed it and it opened him up much easier, allowing Loki to give his full attention to slipping a finger inside his lover.

Anthony let out a soft moan and Loki felt the other relax. The prince flicked his gaze up to Anthony, finding the other’s eyes closed as he let himself enjoy the feeling of being breached. Loki allowed himself a small smile as he watched him, only glancing away to slide another finger inside Anthony to stretch his entrance. Anthony was beautiful like this: his chest was flushed with heat and his arousal was before Loki, a tangible proof of his enjoyment of their time together. The weaponsmith would bite his lip and let out soft moans, as well, when Loki began to thrust his fingers in earnest, pressing them deep until he could brush the spot that made Anthony jerk and groan loudly, his whole body tensing as he arched.

Loki slid his fingers out, intending to coat more oil onto them to loosen the other Aesir even further, but Anthony was impatient and eased his leg off Loki’s shoulder. Loki’s eyes had dropped to the oil but his attention jerked back up. Anthony was tugging the pillow out of their way and pulling his legs towards his chest.

“‘M ready,” Anthony panted, his eyes holding Loki’s, dark and desperate - and Loki didn’t need to be told twice. Loki slicked himself with the remaining oil before getting himself into position.

He wasn’t as familiar with having Anthony as he wanted to be, but Loki still knew his lover enough to be able to ease himself inside with little difficulty. Anthony moaned while Loki panted harshly, continuing until he was fully encased within the other man; the mage then pressed his hands to the mattress on either side of Anthony’s chest as he tried to catch his breath.

Anthony brought his legs to wrap around Loki’s hips, dragging him in deeper and making them both groan with the feel of it.

Loki’s head had fallen forward, his eyes closing, but he opened them to be able to look down at Anthony’s face. The forgemaster’s eyes were squeezed shut and Loki kept his gaze on that flushed face as he drew himself out before slowly rocking back in. Anthony let out a shaky breath and his eyelashes fluttered. Loki found himself staring at his lover’s mouth, his bitten lips, wanting to cover them with his own. He wanted to kiss Anthony, to close his eyes and slowly press into his lover while their mouths brushed. Loki wanted the intimacy, the act of _lovers_ \- he wanted it so much it hurt, and Loki had to close his eyes tightly, tilting his face away. He ducked his head slightly, hiding himself from Anthony’s view as he focused on slowly but deeply thrusting into the man beneath himself.

When Loki shifted his angle just slightly, Anthony moaned loudly and a curse followed soon after as he clenched around the pleasure of the thrust. Loki let out his own groan and he found himself unable to stop himself from looking at the other man when he felt Anthony’s body shift. Anthony’s eyes were open and glazed with pleasure; he’d brought his arms up to grasp the wood of the bed’s headboard - it allowed him further movement, and he began to move deliciously in time with Loki’s thrusts.

Loki altered their position even more to further assist the angle of his thrusts. It meant that their faces were so close that Loki could feel Anthony’s harsh breaths. He could hear every whimper and watch as Anthony bit his lip and his eyelashes fluttered with pleasure. Loki wanted to kiss him so desperately that he couldn’t stop himself. The mage had enough sense to only mouth at Anthony’s jaw, but it was enough to sate him; it also kept him obscured from the other’s view. His chest felt tight with affection and want, with an all-consuming desire to _have_ Anthony: Loki wanted him for more than a night, more than sex; Loki wanted _him_ \- completely and forever.

Loki had to grit his teeth and make himself stop _thinking_ of Anthony that way, to instead focus on sliding into Anthony, of their building orgasms. His hands were holding himself up on the bed, but he could feel Anthony’s erection rubbing against his stomach as he moved inside of him. The prince’s thrusts were beginning to become slightly frantic as he drew closer to his climax.

“Shall I touch you?” Loki found himself asking, his voice rougher than usual as he brushed his lips near Anthony’s ear. He also found himself continuing: “Shall I make you come _without?_ ”

Anthony moaned loudly at the thought and his muscles clenched automatically. Loki hissed and his thrusts became more erratic as he closed his eyes and breathed harshly against Anthony’s neck. Anthony’s ankles were pressing against the small of the mage’s back, driving him deeper as Anthony made soft little noises of assent and desperation.

In the end, Loki came before Anthony, thrusting rapid and deep and pressing his mouth to Anthony’s throat to muffle his cry. He almost called the other’s name, but managed to bite it down at the last moment.

The prince only had a few moments to luxuriate and breathe through his release before Anthony’s whine broke through his thoughts. Anthony’s cock was still hard and he’d quickly and carefully slipped his hand between them while Loki had panted. The angle and positioning was difficult, but Anthony was stroking himself hurriedly. Loki pushed himself up from where he’d slumped slightly over the other to look down at him and watch.

Anthony’s eyes were closed and his head was tilted back with his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he stroked himself. It didn’t take long before the weaponsmith’s face went slack with pleasure and Loki felt the warmth of the other’s release splash his skin as Anthony jerked against him, his muscles clenching on Loki’s now sensitive cock. Loki barely noticed it, however, too enraptured by the look of Anthony orgasming: his soft sounds, his parted mouth. The prince only wished he could have looked in his lover’s eyes and seen what they looked like the moment before pleasure overtook Anthony.

His fingers twitched with the urge to stroke Anthony’s cheeks, to make his eyes flutter open before Loki pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He stopped himself from doing either when Anthony’s legs slid away from the mage’s back, the orgasm making his muscles go loose. Loki took it as a sign that it was time to slide himself free from Anthony and move until they were no longer touching.

**Anthony was quick to blink and push himself up on his elbows; for a long moment, they simply stared at each other.

 _Request that I stay_ , Loki’s mind whispered as he looked at the other - but the thought made him flinch slightly. He masked it by looking away, his eyes trailing the room but seeing nothing.

“I can get something,” Anthony murmured, his voice slightly rough before he cleared it. “If you want to clean...”

He trailed off and Loki looked back at him, seeing the awkwardness sliding back over the other Aesir’s posture. 

_Clean myself or clean us both?_ Loki wondered and his eyes trailed down Anthony’s body. 

Loki knew he shouldn’t do it, but he still leaned forward slightly to put the tips of two fingers against Anthony’s thigh. He looked at Anthony pointedly and wondered if he would understand the silent question. A hint of a smile caught at Anthony’s mouth and he relaxed a little. “Or you could conjure something.”

Anthony shifted just enough that it felt like permission, so Loki did as he had the last time they’d been together, calling the items from his rooms so that he took care of them both, using soft strokes on Anthony and hearing him let out a soft sigh at the touches.

When there was nothing left for him to do, Loki returned the items to his bathing quarters and found himself looking at Anthony once again - wondering what to do with himself and how to ask for what he wanted.

“I guess we’ll find each other,” Anthony eventually said, “when we want to be seen together?”

Loki forced out a tight smile, knowing it for the cue that it was. He nodded and stood, turning away and pulling his clothes back on himself with a gesture. “Yes. You need only to call for me.”

He looked over his shoulder when he was finished, enjoying the picture of Anthony naked on the bed: imagining him in the same position in Loki’s chambers, pretending that Anthony would be there when Loki returned from whatever duty that had drawn him away from his lover.

“Until then, Prince Loki,” Anthony answered him, and Loki kept his eyes locked on the other even as he teleported away.

When he arrived in his chambers, the rooms felt as lonely and empty as Loki’s heart did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Ngl. The amount of comments from my beta had be tempted to tag this story with "Loki is an idiot" alas, there is not a tag for that. Still. I might give in during the later chapters, who knows? ;P
> 
> Hope you liked!
> 
>  **EDIT:** Thanks to popular demand "Loki is an idiot" is now a tag on this story XD I hope you're all happy, lol.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! I actually remember to put the asterisks in before posting this time! Go me! Lol.
> 
> Hope you like the new update! We're now over halfway through!! :D

Things shifted between Anthony and Loki after the night they’d shared in Anthony’s bed. 

Their agreement to project a friendship had to be maintained and it meant that Loki could call upon Anthony more often than he had dared to in the past. It was done with the intent that they would be seen in each other’s company and that their ruse would be believed. It also meant that Anthony started seeking him out, as well.

Loki hadn’t known what to expect, hadn’t known what to _hope_ for, but slowly - as the days turned into weeks - he was able to watch Anthony lose some of his reserve around the prince: the other Aesir began to smile more, to _laugh_. Anthony even started to _like_ him. Loki didn’t dare call them friends aloud but, privately, he liked to believe it had actually happened - that their ruse had became real for them both.

The downside that Loki hadn’t anticipated was that in the four months that followed, Anthony never asked him for another deal and Loki couldn’t bring himself to offer one, either. 

For a while, the prince hadn’t even minded not having Anthony physically; he’d thought that a friendship between them both would be enough. Loki ignored the memory of what it was like to taste the other’s skin and to wring pleasure from Anthony’s body. The mage truly tried to enjoy what he had now, but... by the Norns, he _wanted_ Anthony and - no matter how much he denied it - that desire never wavered or decreased.

Loki just... he found that he desperately desired the quiet afternoons in Anthony’s workshop, too. He sought the silent company they provided each other when they sat side by side in the library. He even adored the casual conversation they partook in as they strolled through the markets or Asgard’s streets. Loki thrived when he made Anthony laugh with a story or gently teased him over tales that Anthony recounted about his own past. The two men became _known_ as friends and while people were confused as to how it started, no one believed it to be false - no one believed that they were lovers, either.

It could have been perfect. Loki could have a friend who was intrigued by his magic, who loved to read and discuss his findings with Loki. He could have a dear friend, a _true_ friend - if it hadn’t all started with a lie... if Loki didn’t always find himself looking at Anthony and _longing_ for him. 

Loki knew what it was like to kiss Anthony, to lay with him and hear the other Aesir’s moans of pleasure. Loki knew it - and he craved it. He wanted _all_ of it without a deal and with true affection shared between the both of them. Loki wanted Anthony to absently clasp his arm and share a private joke with him, as they now did under their ruse. He wanted to then be able to pull Anthony into a kiss seconds later and continue along with their day as if such gestures between them were common.

The mage knew genuine affection and infatuation from Anthony were far out of his grasp, but a friendship that still _used_ their bartering system? Why could he not have that? 

But it had been four months and no problem had found its way to Anthony’s doorstep. Loki was terrified, as well - terrified that pushing, that _asking_ for the deal back, would reveal too much of himself... or worse: it would lose Loki the new closeness he’d achieved with Anthony.

The prince wanted so much: all, completely, _every piece of Anthony_. But Loki didn’t know how to gain it, how to _have_ it. How could they return to what they’d shared? Would Anthony even wish to? If Anthony now saw them as friends, would he be unable to consider returning to their previous transactions? 

Loki didn’t know the answer, and he didn’t know which option would hurt more... and it was driving him to distraction. 

Frigga could sense her son’s distraction - of course she could - and she was attempting to draw the truth out of him with increasing frequency by inviting him to private lunches and quiet strolls through her gardens: all ruses to mask the queen’s true intentions.

They were sharing such a walk when she turned off the path and took a seat on one of the numerous ornately designed stone benches, encouraging Loki to join her. Frigga then directed the conversation towards Anthony, something that she often did since learning of their acquaintance. “How is your friend, Loki?”

The prince kept his tone carefully blank and uninviting. “He’s fine.”

His mother hummed in response. “Will I be seeing him at the feast?”

Loki blanched. The feast in question was a yearly event to honour a battle from centuries ago. It included far more ale, fawning courtiers, and posturing warriors than Loki could stomach. It was also one of the most beloved and anticipated Aesir celebrations and was held throughout Asgard at varying homes and taverns.

The royal banquet, of course, was where the majority of people wished to spend the evening. Loki was, unfortunately, required to attend as part of the royal family; Anthony, however, was not and likely had as much interest as him in the event. 

“No, I don’t believe you will, Mother.”

“Would he not wish to share and celebrate it with you?” A touch of sadness entered Frigga’s eyes. “I had hoped to see you enjoy yourself without mischief this year.”

Loki’s smile was more of a grimace as a different ache filled him: the pain of disappointing his mother and her wishes for him. He reached out and took her hand. “He would enjoy it as little as I, Mother. Truly, let him have his workshop. I would not make him suffer a night at this celebration.”

The queen narrowed her eyes at Loki, knowing her son far too well. “And have you given him the choice of attending the feast with you?” Loki’s eyes skittered away and he surveyed the garden, letting his silence speak for itself. Frigga sighed at him and squeezed his hand. “I would like to meet your Anthony.”

Loki jerked his head around to look at her, and his face fought a battle between heating up in a blush or losing all colour from his dread. 

“He is not _mine_ ,” the mage managed to get out, his voice slightly strangled.

“Yet you speak very highly of him,” Frigga remarked, watching him shrewdly. “I had wondered...”

She trailed off, but Loki was quick to grimace and shake his head, small but firm in his denial of her assumption. “He is a talented, intelligent man, and I prize his friendship.”

Frigga looked at him forlornly and Loki found he couldn’t watch her for long. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was soft and gentle: “I am glad you have such a friend.”

“As am I,” Loki murmured quietly; then, from one beat to the next, the conversation was shifted by her introducing a new topic and nothing more was said about Anthony.

Loki had been glad for it at the time - but, in hindsight, he shouldn’t have let his mother change their subject so easily. He should have known that it wouldn’t be the end of it: the light in her eyes and the contemplative furrow of her brow should have given the mage pause. 

\--because Frigga rarely dropped things so easily, especially when it came to those that she cherished. Her wicked and manipulative side was enough to rival Loki’s own, although she rarely used it in a way that many would notice.

It was unfortunate for Loki that he didn’t pay attention to all the hints in her expression (because, when it came to Anthony and the topics surrounding him, there were a lot of things that Loki found himself shying away from witnessing). 

There were just too many things Loki didn’t wish to think about or admit, even if only to himself.

* * *

The mage didn’t see much of Anthony in the lead up to the feast, busy as Loki was with sudden duties he’d been loaded with and distractions in the form of Thor’s jubilance at the approaching celebration. It had disappointed the younger prince, but Loki promised himself he would see Anthony the day after the feast - his reward for suffering the drunken louts he would be faced with. It was all Loki was holding onto when the night arrived and he had entered the hall.

Loki hadn’t anticipated, though, that while he leaned, bored and unimpressed against a wall, that he would spot a slightly uncertain and uncomfortable Anthony trailing in with the invited guests. Loki froze with his drink halfway to his lips, staring in shock even as he took in the other man who was currently dressed in formalwear.

The mage had never seen Anthony look so _elegant_ before.

The weaponsmith’s outfit was a standard design with only few alterations to what most of the other Aesir were wearing, but it was _tailored_ for him. It fit and complemented Anthony’s form beautifully and the forgemaster’s hair and beard were trimmed and styled for the evening; it was nothing like the man that Loki had come to know so well - the one that spent hours bent over his forge, wearing clothing that was three days old.

Loki was torn over which version he liked better, but the rarity of _this_ side of the shorter Aesir was keeping him ensnared. Anthony’s outfit was done in browns, blacks, and golds. He also wore a black cape - and how Loki longed to unclasp the cloak and let it fall to the floor. Anthony simply looked _delectable_ and the prince had to swallow thickly, spending long moments just _admiring_ Anthony from a distance before he forced himself to move through the crowd and over to the other man.

“Anthony,” the prince greeted, stopping just in front of him. “I didn’t expect you to attend.”

His presence had initially caused Anthony to relax, but the weaponsmith tensed up again at Loki’s words. He suddenly looked uncomfortable and nervous as he answered. “I was invited... I thought it was from you?”

Loki wanted to answer that, but he could already sense curious eyes on them. He knew they couldn’t afford to disrupt the illusion of their friendship and, while they needed to talk about this, they couldn’t do it here. The prince lightly touched Anthony’s arm and guided him over to a table. Anthony, far from oblivious to the people around them, let himself be led. Loki encouraged the weaponsmith to grab a goblet and engaged him in light, frivolous conversation that was easily maintained. Loki then eased Anthony away from the crowd and to a corner where they could be observed but not overheard.

Their chatter had petered out by then - and, when they were as alone as possible in a crowded hall, Loki finally turned his attention back to Anthony’s unanswered question. “Your friendship with me has allowed you an invite. It happens similarly whenever Thor favours some new person or another.” He glanced away from Anthony, thinking of more than a few women who’d gained such an invitation when Thor had been interested in laying with them. He was speaking more to himself than Anthony when he murmured, “The assumption from others that I would want you here was not something I anticipated.”

Loki found himself scanning the hall for Frigga, wondering with some exasperation and annoyance if this wasn’t somehow her doing. The prince wouldn’t have been surprised if this was her attempt to meet Anthony, to see them together, and to see how they interacted. 

“But you do not want me here.” The quiet statement made Loki snap his head around towards Anthony, eyes wide with shock. Anthony was looking away from Loki, taking a deep swig of his drink - though that couldn’t fully hide his grimace.

“No, Anthony, you misunderstand,” Loki quietly told him. “I am,” _overjoyed, relieved, beyond heartened_ , “... _happy_ to have you here. I just didn’t think it would be your... preferred choice for the evening.”

That, at least, made Anthony catch Loki’s gaze again. The weaponsmith stared at the other Aesir for a long moment before he eventually began to smile. “And you’re not wrong, Prince. But nor would I say that this is _your_ ideal evening, either.”

Loki shrugged, relaxing a little at Anthony’s more teasing answer. “I’m required to attend. You however, are not.”

“You would have me refuse a _royal_ invite?” Anthony asked, sounding aghast and placing a hand to his chest to complete the gesture. It made a grin pull at Loki’s mouth. “And here I thought that you preferred to have me among the living!”

Loki chuckled. “I believe you’re being overdramatic.”

Anthony just smirked at the prince and dropped his hand. “Well, perhaps--as I do have you to help me if I am ever in any great trouble.”

He finished it with a wink and, while Loki _knew_ it was a friendly tease, his body still flushed with heat and his heart leapt at the words. Loki didn’t know what expression crossed his face, but it obviously must have reminded Anthony of how their association came about - of their _arrangement_. However, instead of getting uncomfortable like Loki would have otherwise expected, Anthony just tilted his head and looked at the taller Aesir like he was an interesting riddle. “But I suppose saving me would come at a price, wouldn’t it?”

Loki swallowed thickly. “I can be easy to appease.”

Anthony hummed. “A shame, then, that I did not need your rescue.”

_Are you... do you mean that you would have...?_

But the questions were lost on the mage’s tongue, never escaping as he immediately felt hesitant and nervous about voicing them. It didn’t help, either, when their solitude was interrupted by a cheerful shout of ‘ _Brother!_ ’, followed by Thor bounding over and slapping Loki so hard on his shoulder that he almost spilled half of the liquid in his goblet.

Loki sent Thor a quick glare, but his brother wasn’t looking at him any longer. He was smiling at Anthony. “Howardson!”

“Prince Thor,” Anthony answered politely.

Thor just smiled broadly at them. “Come join us! Loki will have you waste away the evening in this corner should you let him!”

“ _We_ enjoy a quiet conversation over a loud _brawl_ , Thor,” Loki snapped, but his brother just laughed at him.

“We wish to know your friend, Loki. Fandral has interest in discussing the crafting of a new sword, and I wish to see how well he can drink.” The blond prince smiled brightly. “It might be of use to have a weaponsmith able to join us in battle.” 

Anthony’s eyes had widened while Loki just felt the strong urge to step in front of Anthony and keep him free from Thor’s idiotic plans. To keep Anthony _away_ from Thor’s reach and safe from being snatched from him like everything Loki coveted always was.

 _He’s mine and you can’t **have him**_ , Loki wanted to hiss angrily - _possessively_ \- but he didn’t get the chance before Thor was using his superior strength to pull Loki away from the wall. The large prince also grabbed Anthony with his other hand, manhandling them through the crowd in a way that neither of them could fight against without consequence.

 _Anthony_ might not even want to fight it. He might _like_ the idea of becoming a closer associate of Thor’s. The thought only made Loki grit his teeth and clench his goblet tighter. He barely kept himself from digging his heels into the floor or lighting something on fire so that he could pull away, dragging Anthony with him.

In the end, Loki still ended up where Thor wanted them: at his table - which was as boisterous as ever. The Warriors Three were laughing and slamming their goblets together after the conclusion of some rousing story as Sif watched on fondly.

Fandral was to first to notice their approach, and he let out a pleased laugh and raised his goblet. “You convinced Loki to join us! I would have thought that an impossible feat!”

“Aye,” Thor agreed. “But I am determined tonight. We have not properly met Howardson, and a friend of Loki’s should be a friend of ours, should he not?” 

“How can we know? He is the first we’ve ever had to meet!” Volstagg joked, causing a wave of laughter at the table and making Loki flinch slightly.

Thor just laughed, as well, before slapping Loki’s and Anthony’s back. “A prized friend he must be, then, to interest my brother.” 

“Or perhaps Howardson just does not know what he is in for yet,” Sif suggested. “We must make sure Loki is not tricking him!” 

There was more laughter to follow at that comment, and Loki felt tension forming thick across his shoulders. He also found himself unable to look at Anthony, not wanting to know what he’d see. Would Anthony be smiling and fighting down his own laugh at their words? Or would he be frowning, wondering if they were right and that associating with Loki had been the wrong choice to begin with?

“I thought the tricks were half the fun?” Anthony suddenly remarked, making everyone go quiet and making Loki snap his head to look at Anthony. The weaponsmith was smiling pleasantly while holding Sif’s eyes almost daringly. “He would not be Loki without his mischief. Why would I be friends with someone who could not make me laugh?”

Loki felt a vindictive pleasure rise up inside him, making him smirk far too smugly. Sif looked slightly shocked, but Hogun quietly replied, “Loki does not always trick for the fun of those around him.”

“Really?” Anthony frowned in a way that looked genuine, but Loki could swear he could see something almost... mocking beneath it? “I have yet to spend time around Loki and not enjoy it. He is difficult to decipher at times, but that is what makes his company so interesting. _That_ is what I like about him.” 

Anthony’s response was met with silence - as if no one quite knew how to reply to it. The Warriors Three were exchanging uncertain glances, Sif was scowling darkly, and Thor was blinking in puzzlement. Loki just wanted to _beam_ at Anthony. _Perfect, wonderful man; how I adore you_. 

Thor was the first to eventually break the silence with a sudden laugh and grin. “A prized friend, indeed: loyal and tolerant of Loki’s tricks. A fine addition to our table!”

Thor’s acceptance quickly sparked the others to raise their goblets in a toast and, for just a moment, Loki caught Anthony’s eyes, grateful and buoyed beyond words by the other man’s defence and unsure how to show it. Anthony seemed to understand because he flashed the darker prince a smile and a wink. The weaponsmith was pulled down to sit beside Thor seconds later and Loki was forced to do the same. Anthony was on the other side of Loki’s idiot brother, much to his annoyance, but he didn’t feel as... nervous about Anthony being around the others anymore.

Anthony had defended him - defended _them_ and their friendship - and Loki, well... it would take a long time for the warmth from that to fade. _Maybe - he truly is my friend._

Loki could only take a sip from his goblet to try to hide his growing smile, try to hide the way his heart yearned for the other man, and how he just wanted, as always, to pull Anthony into his arms and kiss him deeply.

* * *

They spent the first hour of the feast with Thor - which included listening to the Allfather’s speech to begin the meal, as well as remaining there to eat it. While it would normally irritate Loki to be stuck with Thor, it now filled Loki with a mixture of wonder, joy, and adoration; it was all because of Anthony because, despite being around people more disposed to mock and dislike Loki, Anthony never wavered in his loyalty. He even _disagreed_ openly and publically with them if it meant standing up for their friendship. Loki wasn’t silent with his praising of that nor his defence of Anthony and his compliments of the other’s work and intellect. 

Thor had remained sitting between them for that hour. Eating uncouthly, talking loudly and cheerfully with Anthony, and joking with his friends; yet, despite the physical barrier Thor represented, it didn’t change a thing. Loki still managed to speak seamlessly with Anthony, their words and stories flowing together naturally whenever they were asked about their history. They also talked circles around the others and, occasionally, Loki would be lucky enough to catch Anthony’s smirk and amused eyes in response to their tales. 

It was perfect. 

It was everything Loki had ever wanted, and he was all but _giddy_ with the success and thrill of it.

The chatter had eventually broken up when Thor’s eye had been caught by a flirtatious dancer. While Loki had been enjoying basking in his friendship with Anthony in front of the others, he still hadn’t hesitated to pull Anthony away from the table so they could be alone. The Warriors Three were still curious - but, once Thor had departed, there was nothing to hold Loki there.

Unfortunately, Thor hadn’t forgotten his bid to see how well Anthony could drink; while Anthony had avoided the drinks for the most part, he still had a faint flush of alcohol to his cheeks. Loki, too, had found himself drinking more than normal with his good humour relaxing him more than he usually allowed in public. The mage knew that they could both hold their liquor, but it didn’t mean that goblets of wine hadn’t mellowed and loosened them.

They didn’t stumble when they walked, but Loki found he was more tolerant of... everything tonight: just as long as he had Anthony smiling and happy by his side.

Loki directed them away from the crowds to rest against one of the less populated walls. Anthony was practically leaning against Loki as much as the wall, and their sides pressed together as he looked up at Loki with a wide grin. “Is it wrong, Prince Loki, to hope that I have _not_ endeared them to me?”

Loki found himself smiling back. “Oh? You do not wish to become one of Thor’s chosen and trusted friends?”

“I have my share of friends to drink loudly with in taverns,” Anthony replied, shaking his head but with a slight grimace to his features. “And I am not one to seek out battle, as you know, Prince.” He glanced back at Loki and his expression smoothed out, curious and slightly... fond? “I find I have very little in common with the Crown Prince. I find I have far more interest in his talented and impressive trickster brother.”

Loki sucked in a breath, his eyes widening slightly as his heart began to race. _You would choose me over Thor? You would choose **me**._ The very idea seemed impossible, ludicrous - but, oh, it was wonderful and longed for, too.

Loki just wanted to reach out and cup Anthony’s cheek, to pull him into a kiss and taste the wine on the weaponsmith’s tongue, feel the heat of his mouth. He wanted to hold Anthony against him and kiss him until decency would force them to leave. The prince wanted to whisper his gratitude and affections against Anthony’s skin, to praise him for his loyalty and for making Loki’s heart blaze with warmth - for making Loki feel so _happy_.

“Loki?” Anthony queried when the prince hadn’t spoken. Anthony looked uncertain, as if worried about what he had said.

It - and likely the wine - made Loki admit quietly, “Few people would choose me over Thor.”

“’The first friend who’s met them,’” Anthony quoted into the space between them, remembering Volstagg’s words and making Loki cringe slightly.

Anthony shifted, his hand coming up to lightly rest on Loki’s shoulder in comfort, and Loki glanced down at it. Anthony’s palm was warm and Loki could feel it through his tunic. Anthony had also shifted so his back was to the room, his attention focused solely on the Aesir at his side. Their eyes locked when Loki looked back up, and the mage couldn’t hear a hint of a lie when Anthony told him firmly: “They are all the more fools for not knowing what treasure they have missed.” 

“You would call me a treasure?” Loki wondered. His teeth dragged across his bottom lip briefly, nervously. “When the way that we became...” But Loki trailed off and averted his eyes, unable to make himself finish the sentence.

But Anthony did it for him. He also lightly shook Loki’s shoulder until the prince looked back at him, and Anthony was smiling. “Was it not you who told me there was no shame? Nothing but enjoyment and mutual benefit? Perhaps next time you should ask me for a sword when I ask you for your help? I hardly see that there would be much difference.”

Loki ignored most of the words to focus on the only ones that mattered to him. “Next time? You would ask me again?”

Anthony blinked at him and something flashed through his eyes far too quickly for Loki to read. He still ended up grinning at the mage, wide and almost mischievous. “Friends aid one another daily, do they not? Who is anyone to tell us how we should design our system? Some may ask for the purchase of liquor after their assistance.” His smile became a smirk, wicked and teasing. Anthony even leaned a little closer and his voice dropped an octave, almost becoming a purr. “Perhaps we are just far more _versatile_ , Loki."

Loki felt heat rush through him, making his breath catch; his eyes fell and lingered on Anthony’s lips, so close to his own. It suddenly felt so _possible_ to taste them again. For the first time in months, Loki could believe that there was a _chance_.

 _The alcohol. What Anthony is saying could just be the alcohol..._ but Loki couldn’t believe it. Anthony was too aware, too sharp in his gaze. The weaponsmith might be more eager - more flirtatious, even - because of the wine; but if the liquor _had_ done anything, it was to simply lower their inhibitions, lowered them enough that they had dared to speak when they usually fell silent.

It had made _Loki_ speak. 

He wasn’t brave enough to dare talk about anything deeper - about feelings and wanting more than a deal - but the prince could still smirk and minimise even more of the distance between them. He could dare, at least, for more of _this_. “A friendship with _versatility_. My brother may be wrong about many things, but he is not wrong about calling you _prized_.”

“And you have gained that prize,” Anthony told him. “So what, my Prince, will you do with it?”

Loki’s mind rushed through images, wants, desires: everything he had been thinking of and trying to ignore over the months of their friendship, trying to decide which fantasy he wanted to suggest first. But, before he could, there was a polite clearing of a throat and they both jerked back from one another to look towards the sound.

Loki almost went red with embarrassment to find his mother standing before them, a small smirk curling at her mouth. “Loki, I’m pleased to see you’re enjoying your evening.” Her eyes moved to Anthony, who stood tense at Loki’s side. “Is this the friend that you’ve mentioned to me?”

Loki wanted to sink into the ground - not because Frigga was meeting Anthony, but because of just _what_ she’d interrupted. Loki hadn’t quite decided what he was going to say to Anthony, but it certainly wouldn’t have been something he’d have wanted his _mother_ to hear. 

“Mother.” Loki cleared his throat, straightening his clothes unnecessarily and pulling even further away from Anthony’s side. He held one hand towards Anthony to more properly introduce him to the queen. “This is Anthony Howardson, who is a fine weaponsmith with a keen mind.” Loki then turned to Anthony, who was smiling somewhat stiffly, and made the same gesture. “Anthony, my mother: Queen Frigga.”

“Queen Frigga,” Anthony intoned before bowing formally. 

Frigga was smiling wider by the time Anthony had straightened himself. “I’ve heard many things about you, Anthony Howardson. I’m pleased to see that Loki has finally found a friend worth his time.”

“Your son is rather remarkable. I’m lucky to have been gifted his friendship.”

“I believe it may be something more than luck.” Frigga’s eyes practically twinkled, and Loki wanted to melt into the ground and disappear. “But, please, tell me of yourself. Loki has been rather reserved when speaking of you.” 

Anthony darted his eyes to Loki. “I... perhaps there is very little to tell.” The forgemaster looked back at Frigga, his smile pure charm but his eyes sheepish and almost self-deprecating. “I spend very little time outside my workshop or the royal library. When I am with Loki, we are usually debating some text or another.” He sent Loki a grin. “I frustrate him daily with my limited grasp on magic.”

It was a common tease between the two of them and Loki responded before he could stop himself, exasperated and fond in equal measure. “If you would but _read_ the texts that I leave out for you!”

“And be unable to see your brow furrow so furiously?” Anthony quipped back, smirking, but his eyes were light with friendly teasing. “You have centuries of experience ahead of me, Loki, and I have other books to read. Do grant me some understanding!”

Loki just scowled at him, but the mage was interrupted from his reply by Frigga’s light chuckle. It snapped them from their familiar banter, and Loki’s face fell slightly at seeing Anthony stiffen briefly before forcibly relaxing. Anthony was still growing comfortable with expressing a more open interest in magic. It had taken some weeks for Anthony’s natural curiosity to break through his reticence, and it was Loki’s fear of that curiosity disappearing that kept him from pushing too hard at Anthony learning more and accepting Loki’s offers for lessons. While Anthony would never be a mage, it didn’t mean that they couldn’t discuss magic in general - or that Anthony couldn’t expand his knowledge on scriptures, engravings, and enchantments. They were progressing further with Anthony’s understanding... but slowly and only when they were alone.

Loki’s mother noticed the small shift in body language in a glance and quickly spoke before the awkward atmosphere could fester: “It’s an impressive person that Loki willingly shares his magic with. I’m glad that you have shown an interest in something that others often dismiss when they find themselves unable to practice it.”

Anthony’s mouth opened but didn’t respond immediately; he swallowed first and his eyes fell to the floor before quickly jerking back up to Frigga. “I cannot see why, Queen Frigga,” he said quietly. “Loki is talented and I’m grateful for what he shows me.”

Despite the praise in the other’s response, Loki’s hand still twitched at his side - wanting to reach out and touch Anthony, to comfort and shelter him. He wanted to assure Anthony that Loki didn’t _care_ about how uncertain Anthony was to have others know his interest. Loki didn’t care about public acknowledgment; he just wanted to share the mutual enjoyment of magic in private and watch Anthony’s eyes alight with fascination and glee.

He needed to change this conversation, now, and before Anthony withdrew from it and from wanting to learn more about magic in general.

“We prefer our solitude regarding it, Mother,” Loki told her, making both of them look at him with differing emotions in their eyes. But Loki’s attention was only for Frigga, imploring her to listen. “Magic is a complex subject, as you well know.”

_You know the Aesir and their dislike for male mages. Please, Mother, don’t push him on this._

A firm touch to his arm forced Loki to look over at Anthony. Loki was surprised to see the familiar spark and determination in the weaponsmith’s gaze, something that Loki adored to watch flare to life. “A complex subject I will only understand if we continue to speak of it.” Anthony grinned, all anxiety gone. “I may not be able to create an illusion with seidr, but it doesn’t mean I cannot enjoy seeing it - _wherever_ it is shown.”

Loki blinked and, for a moment, the rest of the world could simply have not existed. “And if you were the only one to enjoy it?”

“Then, once again,” Anthony began firmly, “it seems I am the only one with any sense.”

Loki couldn’t stop the way he smiled, sudden and bright and filled with far too many things that he couldn’t let Anthony see - yet couldn’t stop himself from feeling. “And they wonder why I would never turn my mischief on _you_.”

“They wonder - while we know better,” Anthony told the mage with a laugh. “They call you trickster while I call you _brilliant_. Let them have their confusion; we will have our fun!”

“Oh, dear,” Frigga spoke, once more startling them from their conversation - but her smile was thrilled and her eyes laughing. “Why do I believe we shall now have _two_ pranksters in our midst?”

Loki adopted an innocent expression and could see Anthony do the same from the corner of his eye. He found himself pressed against Anthony’s side once more and was luxuriating in the other’s warmth, even as he promised Frigga: “It would only be a bit of fun, Mother. Nothing you need worry about.”

“Yes, so you have always said,” the queen told her youngest son with far too much affection to be truly bothered by the lack of a true promise to avoid any mischief. She then turned to Anthony, offering him a gentle and approving smile. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, Anthony. I do hope I will see you at our gatherings more often in the future.”

She inclined her head at him when she finished, and Anthony sketched a quick bow in response, knowing it for the parting remark that it was. “I, uh, would enjoy that, Queen Frigga. Thank you.”

“I will make the arrangements,” Frigga stated, giving them both a final smile before turning and slipping back into the crowd. 

She left Anthony blinking beside Loki in confusion before the shorter Aesir turned to the prince and asked, “Arrangements?”

Loki could only chuckle a little helplessly. “I am afraid you will now be invited to any gathering that she can manage to include you in. In fact, I do believe that you have just been promoted to an unofficial member of the court.”

Anthony took a few moments to absorb that fact before looking down at his goblet and announcing: “I believe I need more wine.”

Loki could only laugh, feeling genuinely, wonderfully happy with his life for a few glorious and perfect moments.

* * *

The good humour, for the most part, remained - but being able to stay at Anthony’s side did not.

Frigga’s conversation with them meant that, the moment Anthony left Loki for more liquor, the weaponsmith was snapped up into discussions with any courtier who was near enough to pounce on him - and it quickly became a continuing trend. Loki tried to shield Anthony from most of it, but he found himself drawn away by Thor on numerous occasions.

It was after one such irritating conversation that he had pulled away from his brother, only to find Anthony surrounded by courtiers and attempting to hide how discomforted he seemed to be by whatever way the conversation had turned.

Loki had scowled and taken a step towards the other, intending to join the discussion and to slowly extract them both from it. But then the mage paused, an idea bursting to life and instantly becoming too enticing to ignore.

He glanced around himself before making his way to an otherwise empty corner of the hall; he cast soft spells to discourage interest in his presence before focusing his attention sharply on Anthony. Loki licked his lips, took in a breath, and crafted a spell that would allow him to speak with Anthony in a way that no other could hear. 

Loki whispered soft words when he was done, and the feel and sound of them would be like a mouth beside Anthony’s ear. _“Would you like some help, Anthony?”_

He saw Anthony startle from across the room, his eyes darting around and a frown puckering his brow. Loki saw someone enquire after him, and the weaponsmith smoothed out his expression and responded easily. 

Loki waited until the majority of the attention was off Anthony again before speaking once more: _“You did ask to see more of my craft, Anthony.”_ Loki got a barely masked eyeroll at that and grinned. _“Think of me and then think your response; I will hear it.”_

There was a moment’s pause before Anthony cautiously answered, _“I hope I do not look as ridiculous as I feel.”_

Loki chuckled. _“You look as if you are paying as little attention to them as you were before.”_

 _“Hah!”_ Anthony exclaimed sarcastically. _“I would listen more - if they had something I wished to hear.”_

_“So you **would** like to be free of them?”_

Anthony frowned, something calculating slipping over his face. _“Are you offering to assist me?”_

Loki licked his lips. _“I could... for a price.”_

Anthony blinked before the beginning of a smirk curled his mouth. The prince heard Anthony’s chuckle in his mind even if the other didn’t laugh outwardly. It rolled around like something wicked and warm. _“A price, my Prince?”_

_“You know the kind I speak of.”_

_“Mmm... the more **versatile** kind,”_ the weaponsmith replied and Loki felt desire wash through him. He knew Anthony couldn’t see him due to the spells, but Loki was watching the other man carefully, enjoying the small curl to Anthony’s mouth and the slight distance to his eyes as he concentrated on their conversation.

Loki let his eyes trail over the other’s outfit: the way his cape fell beautifully, the way Loki wanted to unclasp and untuck every piece of leather and metal on him and peel it away from his body to reveal the tanned skin underneath. 

_“Do you wish for my help or do you not?”_ Loki asked, almost holding his breath as he waited for the answer.

_“I do.”_

Loki’s next exhale was shaky, and he took a moment to close his eyes and compose himself before he told Anthony shortly: _“Show surprise. I will lead you away when it’s time.”_

The mage severed the connection shortly afterwards but maintained the spells on himself, sending a clone to speak to one of the more drunken court members who would hardly notice if Loki was a little less... engaging than usual. The rest of his attention was focused on causing enough of a commotion to grant himself and Anthony an easy and unnoticed exit.

It was rather simple, really: A small nudge to a wooden barrel of ale that had been deliberately weakened - and then, suddenly, there was a large splash, a huge puddle of liquor that was spreading unnaturally fast, and a floor suddenly more slippery than it should be. It drew everyone’s focus and laughter all the while Loki made his way behind Anthony and grasped his forearm, automatically cloaking the other Aesir in the spells that he’d been hiding under.

Anthony turned to Loki with a smile and a laugh, having just watched many courtiers slide and tumble into the soaking liquid, their elegance and dignity lost to the slick floors. Loki grinned back at him while hurrying them out the doors and down the palace hallways in the vague direction of his chambers.

His hand was on Anthony’s upper arm and Anthony was widely smiling with mirth still lighting his features. The shorter Aesir’s cheeks were flushed with the remnants of wine, and they rushed through the halls with their eyes more on each other than where they were going.

“This is the fun you have, Loki, when the court grows too tiresome? If so, I do hope the Queen was right and you will enjoy having a friend to help you trick them...?”

Loki knew it was reckless: they were out of sight of the hall doors, but they were hardly deep enough in the palace to go unseen - but the prince couldn’t stop himself. He gripped Anthony and used his strength to push the other to the side; Anthony stumbled, confused, but Loki kept moving him until he could press the weaponsmith against the wall.

“Loki--”

“ _Yes_ ,” Loki hissed, speaking without thinking and lost to the heady rush of desire, excitement, mischief, and wine. “Be my _partner_.”

The mage kissed Anthony before he could stop himself, pressing Anthony more firmly against the wall; his words held more meaning than for Anthony to be just a partner in tricks and schemes, but in love, lust, _life_ \- but if Anthony did notice the significance, he didn’t speak of it. He just kissed Loki back, his arms coming up and hands tangling in the prince’s dark hair as he dragged Loki in closer, gasping into the other’s mouth and letting himself be caged against the wall.

Loki felt like he was drowning in the kiss. Soaking up the gesture he’d been without for weeks, kissing a man who seemed, in this moment, to be as desperate for it as he was. When they broke apart, they were panting into each other’s mouths and their lips brushed with the slightest movement. 

“How shall you have me this time, Prince?” Anthony asked the mage, voice husky, before pressing his lower body against Loki’s and grinding; their arousals rubbed together through their clothing and made them both groan. Anthony tipped his head back slightly while Loki’s face came forward to curl into Anthony’s neck. The prince licked the skin that hid Anthony’s fluttering pulse, and it made Anthony shudder and his fingers flex in Loki’s hair. Once again, Anthony asked: “How will you have me, Loki?”

 _Here_ , Loki thought viciously, not even realising he’d said it aloud until Anthony’s breath hitched. Loki’s eyes widened slightly but, instead of discouraging him, Anthony only drew the prince upwards with a tug to his hair and kissed him fiercely. That kiss made all common sense flee Loki as he moved his hands to Anthony’s hips. The mage shifted back just enough to slide one hand over until it could cup Anthony’s clothed erection, squeezing it lightly. Anthony broke the kiss to groan and his head lightly smacked back against the wall at the feeling.

“Shall I have you _here?_ ” Loki asked, voice rough. “With nothing but my strength to hold you and my spells to hide us - shall I have you _here_ , Anthony?”

Anthony moaned and gave the tiniest jerk of his head - and, if that wasn’t enough, a leg ran up the side of Loki’s calf and thigh before wrapping around his waist to encourage the taller man closer.** It was all the consent Loki needed, and he hurriedly began pulling at Anthony’s pants to open and push them down enough to reveal Anthony’s glorious erection and taut bottom.

He couldn’t resist grasping Anthony’s cock and giving it a slow stroke. Anthony’s leg almost buckled but Loki kept him pinned and upright. Anthony panted and let out soft noises of pleasure as Loki stroked him, the prince watching Anthony’s face the entire time.

When he heard a drawn-out whine of his name, Loki forced himself to let go of Anthony’s cock before reaching further down. The angle was going to be difficult, but Loki was beyond caring at this point. He conjured oil directly onto his fingers before sliding the first digit between the cheeks of Anthony’s bottom. Anthony shivered and arched while trying to give Loki more room to work.

The mage rewarded Anthony with a smirk and pressed the first finger inside of the other man. Anthony was tight, _gloriously_ so, and it made a possessive thrill run through Loki to imagine _he_ had been the only lover Anthony had let take him over these last few months. The prince knew it was foolish and impossible to know from this alone, but he liked the idea and let himself indulge in it.

He pressed in deeper, sliding a second finger to aid with the stretch. Anthony shifted and a hint of discomfort formed on his face but, when Loki tried to stop his preparations, Anthony let out a growl and glared at him. It made Loki bite down on a chuckle; instead of bending forward in a kiss like he wanted, he instead mouthed at the skin near his collarbone that wasn’t hidden by Anthony’s tunic. It allowed Loki to keep his focus on spreading Anthony. He found, though - rather quickly - that the position was not one made for slow preparation or optimal angles.

Loki scowled a little before a thought occurred to him and he paused his movements. Anthony made a displeased noise in response, but Loki didn’t react beyond swallowing thickly and licking his lips, trying to decide if he should dare it. But… how could the mage resist? He removed his fingers slowly, feeling nervous for an entirely new reason as he shifted to be able to better see Anthony’s face.

The prince wouldn’t make Anthony do this - and he would certainly stop and take his time preparing the other man normally if Anthony didn’t like it. He could even teleport them to his chambers if need be, but Loki found he simply _needed_ to attempt this. It burned within him: a desperate chance to share something like this with Anthony.

Anthony was still frowning and looked a moment away from questioning the mage’s sudden stop, but Loki acted first by twitching his hands and breathing out the soundless words needed for the spell. Anthony’s eyes widened when he felt Loki’s magic replacing the solid feeling of the prince’s fingers inside and stretching him.

“Wha--” Anthony began to ask - only to break off in a moan as Loki sent the magic a little deeper. Anthony’s eyelashes fluttered closed and he squirmed.

Loki swallowed before explaining, his gaze locked on Anthony’s face: “Magic, Anthony, is _just_ as versatile as we are.”

He twisted the spell to stretch Anthony, making the weaponsmith groan and his hands scrabble for purchase on Loki’s back. Loki knew the feeling would be strange as, unlike fingers or a cock, it gave a feeling of fullness but always with the knowledge that what was there wasn’t _enough_. The sensation was a faint pressure and warmth, but it only left the receiver wanting _more_.

At least… Loki _hoped_ Anthony enjoyed it enough to want more. Magic, after all, was one thing to talk about in conversation between the both of them; it was another to have brought into practice sexually.

Loki shifted just slightly, bringing a hand under Anthony’s tunic to stroke his side. “How do you find it?”

Anthony let out a sound Loki couldn’t quantify; Loki was too uncertain to keep going, so he stopped the motion. The moment he did, Anthony’s eyes snapped open and he _glared_ at the mage. Anthony also brought up his other leg to hitch around Loki’s waist, dragging him closer until Loki had to press his free hand against the wall for balance.

When he looked up from steadying himself, he was inches from Anthony’s face. “You only _stop_ to place your _cock_ inside me,” Anthony hissed at the mage, and Loki could only half laugh and half groan his relief as desire washed through him. He kissed Anthony instead of offering any other verbal response. The prince also let the spell begin again, pressing his magic in deeper to make Anthony whine against his lips. Loki just grinned and continued to stretch the other man. 

Loki broke the kiss in order to trail his mouth down to Anthony’s jaw before continuing towards his ear. He lightly bit and tugged the lobe before whispering darkly: “Oh, Anthony, you have no _idea_ the things I could do to you with magic alone.” He moved to Anthony’s neck, sucking the skin into his mouth and leaving a lovely mark. “ _So_ many delicious things.” 

The prince sent a small spark out from the fingers he had placed on Anthony’s back, giving the other man’s nerve-endings a blissful little jolt. Anthony tensed before all but melting against Loki, and the mage chuckled. 

“Your… magic… _fabulous_ ,” Anthony panted out and Loki sucked in a sharp if slightly shaking breath. His teasing flirtations were momentarily washed away by shock, pleasure, and vicious yearning.

Loki closed his eyes and pressed his face against Anthony’s neck. His chest felt close to bursting with something far too desperate, far too _vulnerable_ , finally being soothed and sated. He was hearing a friend, a lover - hearing _Anthony_ \- praise him not only for his more mischievous tricks and his grander spells, but also in _this_. 

Anthony adored Loki’s magic... always.

_The one part of me they all hate. The one part of me that they can never take from me, never make me hate, and the part that no one likes or understands. The part I feel proud of - and the part that is somehow loved by **him**._

Loki hissed out a breath, consumed by the sudden need to _have_ Anthony. He ended the spell abruptly and used rushed magic to open his own pants. The prince had to press even closer to Anthony to better hold him against the wall as he freed himself. His hand slid briefly when he gripped Anthony’s cape rather than the wall, but Loki quickly bunched it further behind Anthony’s back to stay out of the way.

Taking the base of his cock in hand, Loki stroked himself only once, spreading the residual oil over it before commanding roughly, “Spread yourself.”

Anthony didn’t hesitate to obey, letting Loki’s back go to reach down behind himself. It was more than slightly awkward, but Anthony was still able to do as requested as Loki pushed his cock inside. They both groaned as the head slipped in and Loki had to let the base go to better rearrange Anthony against the wall until the mage could ease him down the rest of the way.

They were both panting when the prince was fully sheathed, and Loki leaned heavily against the other to help keep him in place. Anthony’s hands had come back to Loki - one on his back to grip his tunic and the other in his hair. Loki had resumed burying his face against Anthony’s throat, breathing him in and hiding himself when Loki knew just how... open and adoring his face would be.

A part of Loki just wanted to wrap his arm more fully around Anthony to pull him into a more... _intimate_ embrace than just a hand against his skin, but Loki knew he couldn’t; yet the prince didn’t want to dwell on thoughts of that, not when he felt so genuinely _happy_. He felt like everything in his life was perfect; he had snuck out of a feast again but, this time, he had done it with _Anthony_. A co-conspirator who was encouraging Loki in everything: his tricks, their fleeing, the way they were pressed against the wall. 

It could be the alcohol, it could be any number of outside factors - but, right now, Anthony wanted him and Loki could only press his face against the other’s skin. The mage began to draw himself out and thrust back into Anthony. The position meant that he had to be slow in order to control his movements and his angle. It also meant that every slide into Anthony made Loki breathless with pleasure. He took to mouthing at Anthony’s neck, biting occasionally when it only made Anthony jerk and moan lowly, tugging at the prince’s hair and encouraging him to different spots.

Loki could hardly hide his smirk when he was directed to a new place to mark, littering Anthony with visible signs of their pleasure and coupling. Looking at those red marks sent such possessive pleasure through him that Loki had needed to turn his head, to kiss Anthony’s jaw in lieu of his mouth.

Anthony’s head was thrown back against the wall, eyes closed as his body twisted against the stone, trying to find any way to get closer to his release. His pinched features and red mouth made him look desperate for more, and it made Loki’s control waver. He just wanted to fuck Anthony, deep and hard, until his lover couldn’t muffle his scream or stop his orgasm. 

The mage almost wanted to teleport them to a bed, to any kind of firm surface so that he could get better leverage - but Loki was too close, unable to stop his thrusts for a moment when his own pleasure was mounting. It was too hard to stop himself when he’d wanted nothing but this, nothing but _Anthony_ for months. Loki’s hand and fantasies had been inferior substitutes when all he had ever craved was the man that he now had in his arms and against the wall. 

_Only momentarily, **temporarily**_ , the prince reminded himself - and Loki closed his eyes on the thought, pressing his forehead against the stone beside Anthony’s head. The stark coolness of the wall against Loki’s fevered skin made him shiver. He could feel Anthony’s hair brushing the side of his face and the prince tried to focus on that, on the sounds Anthony was making rather than what would happen in minutes from now when their coupling was over. Loki concentrated on his thrusts, on giving Anthony exactly what he needed and wanted. 

Anthony’s hand had moved from his hair to grip Loki’s shoulders, his legs drawing Loki as close as physically possible. He had begun to chant under his breath - little gasps of _yes, yes, Loki_ \- letting him knowing how close Anthony was to climax.

It was hard to do it - with too many things going on and the wine making him reckless - but Loki made himself concentrate until he could, for a moment, send a spell to wrap around Anthony’s erection, undulating and fluttering around Anthony’s cock in a sudden shock of pleasure. The sensation made Anthony cry out, broken and _blissful_ , and Loki felt him come: felt the weaponsmith’s cock jerking between their stomachs as his muscles clenched around Loki’s own.

Loki groaned and dropped his head back to Anthony’s shoulder, pressing his mouth against Anthony skin to smother his adoring call of Anthony’s name as he thrust two more times before coming inside the other man, reaching his own completion with a shudder and a sigh.**

Loki stayed right where he was for a long moment, closing his eyes and slowly regaining his breath. He ended up lightly nuzzling Anthony’s neck, unable to stop the small, affectionate gesture before it was too late. The prince stilled when he realised what he was doing, but he only felt the gentlest stroke of fingers against the back of his neck. Loki shuddered and his eyes snapped open; his entire body focused on that one, that _first_ , affectionate touch that he’d ever received from Anthony after they did something like this.

But the touch was gone too soon, and Anthony was already shifting slightly. Loki took it for the cue it was to move away from Anthony and slide himself free from the other, letting Anthony's legs drop to the ground and stabilizing the other man when he wobbled slightly by placing a hand to his hip.

Loki had been looking at Anthony’s shirt and crumpled cape, but he cautiously brought his eyes up to the other. Anthony was grinning at him, though, humour fresh in his eyes. “And what was _that_ spell you surprised me with at the end?”

“I couldn’t touch you without disrupting our balance.” When Loki couldn’t see anything reproachful in Anthony’s gaze, he also added, “It was a simple spell to incite pleasure.” He smirked slightly, _suggestively_ , trying not to show his hope. “There are many others I could introduce you to, as well.”

Anthony flashed him a grin even as he moved to fix his clothing. “I think I would enjoy that.” Loki very nearly slumped with relief, even if he hid the hunch of his shoulders by fixing his own clothing and flicking a spell over them both to clean away the mess from their activities. Anthony’s smile only widened. “I don’t think I realised how useful those spells of yours truly are. Perhaps I _should_ read those texts you gave me.”

“I _have_ told you that you would enjoy them,” Loki insisted. Anthony just chuckled and leaned against the wall, looking sated and relaxed. His eyes were drooping slightly, however, and Loki could see the exhaustion from a day at the forge, a night at the feast, a bit too much alcohol, and unexpected sex taking their toll.

Loki’s smile became even softer. “Shall I send you home? Save you the walk back to your bed?”

“What a true friend you are,” Anthony told him, looking nothing but grateful and happy at the idea. “Yes, thank you, Loki; that would be wonderful.”

Stepping closer, Loki had to resist the urge to stroke Anthony’s cheek or to fix the other’s only hastily smoothed out tunic. The mage settled for lightly cupping Anthony’s shoulder, close to his neck. A friendly, platonic gesture - and something Anthony could easily dismiss as such. “Goodnight, Anthony.”

Loki had been about to send the forgemaster to his quarters when Anthony surprised him by moving closer; Loki sucked in a breath as soft lips were pressed delicately against his own. It only lasted a moment, there and gone again, and Loki didn’t even close his eyes - too stunned at the touch to do anything but try and understand what had prompted it.

“What...?” the prince asked the moment they had broken apart.

“You like to kiss,” Anthony told him with a shrug, as if it explained it all. “And I am grateful for your magic.”

A small frown of uncertainty crossed Anthony’s brow afterwards, as if he wasn’t sure he should have done it, but Loki erased that worry by pressing close and kissing Anthony again. He moved his hand to Anthony’s neck, his thumb pressing just under the hinge of Anthony’s jaw. The kiss lasted for long seconds; while there was heat in it - a lingering reminder of their sated desire - there was also something tender, something far too soft that Loki couldn’t begin to put into words.

When they broke apart, Loki could feel every inch of their lips parting. He blinked his eyes open and watched Anthony do the same. The weaponsmith’s eyes were tired, but his smile was anything but disapproving. Loki didn’t know exactly _what_ Anthony felt, he couldn’t read him that well, but something in it made Loki’s heart beat with far too much hope. The prince was smiling a little helplessly as he whispered again, “Goodnight, Anthony.”

He didn’t let Anthony reply and didn’t let _himself_ give in to any more impulses as he sent Anthony away in a gentle teleport to land in the middle of his bedroom. The second Anthony was out of sight, Loki couldn’t stop the way his excited smile broke free, wide and jubilant over the kiss - the _goodnight kiss_ \- that he’d shared with Anthony. Loki barely had enough sense to send himself to his room and away from any potentially prying eyes that might stumble across him.

Loki landed in his room and by his bed. He then did something ridiculously childish - but full of wine, euphoria, and glee, Loki couldn’t resist and he let himself fall backwards onto his bed, staring at his ceiling and feeling giddy with how the night had gone.

 _He kissed me_ , Loki thought. _He kissed me **after** we finished our deal. He kissed me and perhaps maybe... maybe I can have what I want after all? Maybe I can have Anthony as mine?_

Loki found a laugh bubbling out of him and had to smother his face in the pillow to quell it. He knew it wasn’t certain, he knew he couldn’t put all his hopes on it, but the future he desperately wanted suddenly felt so close, so _possible_. The prince could remember the warmth of Anthony’s neck against his hand, the feel of Anthony’s mouth against his own.

It had been a night that Loki could find no fault in, could find no cause for anguish. It had been _wonderful_ , and Loki couldn’t wait to go and see Anthony tomorrow: to talk and flirt with the weaponsmith and see if he could kiss the other man again - to kiss Anthony just because Loki wanted to and because Anthony liked doing it, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so torn on what to say at the end of this chapter. I kept oscillating on two teasing remarks... so, have both XD
> 
>  
> 
> Awwh, wasn't that nice?
> 
> *faint ominous music plays in the background, indicating trouble ahead*
> 
> ...Oh dear.
> 
>  
> 
> **aaaaand**
> 
>  
> 
> Wasn't that all lovely and happy?
> 
> ... *looks around and raises a hammer over Loki's heart*
> 
> But, like, I wonder what would happen if I just... you know, brought this down on top of it?
> 
> XD
> 
>  
> 
> **You can pick the Stars' remark you like better XP**


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is later than I intended to post it. But I have finally stopped throwing up and feel a little more like a functioning human so I'mma quickly code this and post it.
> 
> No promise when I'll get to comment replies, but hopefully this is just a 24hour bug.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy people, I know you're here for the fic and not a health update XD ♥

Loki woke up the next morning feeling lighter than he had in weeks; the memories of the previous evening were warmer than the bedding tossed over his body, and the prince could only grin from the feeling. While the wish to wake up with Anthony wrapped in his arms still remained, the lack didn’t sting as much as it usually did.

The mage bathed, dressed, and ate a quick breakfast, wanting to see Anthony as soon as possible. He left his chambers in an excited rush, nervous anticipation making him walk faster than usual. Loki had slept in rather than waking with the sun as he usually did - and, while it was likely because of the wine, he was glad for it. It meant that he could seek out Anthony immediately upon waking rather than being forced to wait for a more suitable hour to visit. He knew that Anthony didn’t rise as early as himself and with alcohol only enhancing Anthony’s likelihood to sleep in, it made Loki hope for the long elusive sight of finding Anthony sleep-ruffled.

Loki also hoped that it meant he could call on Anthony at his home rather than the other man’s workshop. The single night in Anthony’s bed had so far been the only reason to step inside his house, and Loki wanted more of it. He wanted to discover the stories behind each decorative piece, he wanted to know the house the way Loki knew his own chambers. He wanted to be _welcomed_ there and able to visit Anthony whenever he wished, regardless of the time. 

The prince was hopeful that speaking to Anthony about their previous night together would help him gain just that. 

He could still remember the feel of Anthony’s fingers in his hair - unnecessary, _affectionate_ touches -and the soft kiss that had followed them. Loki knew pushing for something more when things were already so tentative could be a mistake, but Loki needed to know if what he’d thought he’d glimmered in Anthony’s gaze was real. The mage wanted to _flirt_ with Anthony with more intent than he usually dared to see what reaction it garnered. Loki needed to know if Anthony had somehow developed an interest in him, too.

It was a risk, yes, but Loki was too hopeful not to take a chance on it.

He still found himself growing increasingly nervous as he neared the other’s house, and it only increased when he noticed Anthony’s energy signature originating from his workshop. Loki was surprised that the weaponsmith was awake - disappointed, too - but perhaps it was better this way. The subject he wanted to discuss was a delicate topic and better suited to _both_ of them being alert. 

_And if what I hope for is true, early mornings at his home will be shared by us **both** in the future_. The thought made Loki shiver slightly with desire and bite down on a grin. He could imagine lying beside Anthony and trading affectionate kisses with the other man or merely wrapping himself around the forgemaster as they prepared food or Anthony sketched at his desk. Oh, he _wanted_ it.

Picking up his pace, Loki made his way towards Anthony’s workshop, excitement twisting inside him. He knew it might be some months, some _years_ even before he could expect a more permanent and familiar situation between them, but the simple idea of it being a _possibility_ was enough to delight the prince. He just needed to encourage Anthony into fostering that ease between them. Loki needed to show Anthony that _he_ was amenable to forming something deeper with the weaponsmith.

It only took the mage a few minutes to reach Anthony’s workshop and, when he did, he could hear the sound of movement and the occasional curse as Anthony either absently dropped an item or tried to find something. It brought back recent memories of working beside the weaponsmith - and made it Loki smile, instinctive and fond.

Keeping his steps quiet, Loki made his way up to the half-open door and carefully pushed it the rest of the way while a small burst of magic helped him to remain unheard. Anthony had his back to the door, and the forgemaster was crouched on the ground, stretching under a table to try and grab something that had fallen beneath it.

Loki let his eyes trail over the other’s back, bottom, and thighs. Anthony was clothed in his usual tunic and pants, but his position left Loki with more than his fair share of imaginings and it made desire spike through him. The mage barely kept the longing from his voice as he announced himself, leaning lightly against the doorframe: “Do you need assistance, Anthony?”

Anthony stilled for all of a second before twisting to look over his shoulder. The shorter man looked surprised - yet there was something else in his expression that Loki couldn’t place. Whatever that emotion was, it was new. “You awoke early as well, Loki?”

“Yes,” Loki agreed, stepping inside and letting the door close almost completely behind him. “An enjoyable evening makes for sound sleep, does it not?”

Anthony blinked before he let out a short laugh and smiled. “Yes, it does - and I still cannot believe I am to be invited to more celebrations.”

“Being the friend of a Prince carries more advantages than just access to a library,” Loki told him. He also swallowed and stepped closer, preparing himself to say more, to even reach out and _touch_ Anthony - friendly but with just a hint of... something else - but Anthony turned back to what he was searching for and Loki hesitated, ultimately losing his nerve.

Anthony only took a few seconds before he from under the table with a chisel in his hand. He examined it for damage before placing the tool on his desk. The weaponsmith then turned so that he could face Loki, his body relaxed and his smile continuing to linger. “Being the friend of this particular Prince is something I find myself greatly enjoying.” He then shook his head and laughed, looking amused. “I couldn’t say I expected it, but I like what we share.”

Loki didn’t know what it was, but something in those words made his heart... fall. “And what do we share?”

Anthony shrugged. “A _versatile_ and beneficial friendship.” He winked. “It’s just the right thing for both of us, it seems: a rather perfect arrangement. I cannot imagine a better thing to be sharing with you, my Prince.”

_Oh_ , Loki thought, his heart sinking even further and his happiness slipping away with it. He drew up a smile, but it felt plastered-on as the rest of his confidence faded. The prince barely heard the words that he was saying, “Yes, quite perfect.”

_Just a friendship. Just an arrangement._ Loki swallowed. _He doesn’t wish to alter it._

Anthony just grinned at him, unaware of what he’d done - unaware of how Loki _felt_. “I will be certain to inform you of any new problems I gain and, should you wish to suggest the terms of our bargain,” Anthony smirked, “I will be happy to hear of it.”

_It’s nothing to him_ , Loki realised all too suddenly, and the knowledge fell upon him like lead. _Nothing but meaningless fun._

Loki had to glance away, taking a moment for himself as his heart _ached_. His hopes had also shattered around him, and he was trying to pick up the pieces of his composure. The kiss, the affection, the laughter - all of Anthony’s reactions last night had merely been a product of Loki’s own wishful thinking; he should have known, Norns damn it - he shouldn’t have _dared_ to dream otherwise. Anthony had been filled with too much wine, arousal, and good-humour and his happiness had been a response to Loki’s _own_ euphoria. It wasn’t because of Loki himself. It wasn’t returned affections or deepening feelings; it was just... a greater acceptance of their arrangement and a deeper _friendship_ with Loki.

It was nothing more.

“Loki?” Anthony called, and Loki flicked his gaze back to the other. Anthony was frowning uncertainly. “Are you alright?”

_I cannot wreck this_. Loki made himself nod, made himself lie. “I am fine. Merely amused at the turns this has taken.”

“That it has become a friendship at all?” Anthony suggested with a smile but with lingering hesitancy in his gaze. 

That, at least, Loki could be truthful about. “Yes, and it’s one that I truly enjoy.”

The prince got a more genuine grin for that. “As do I. But I’m sure you didn’t come for this conversation alone. Did you have something to discuss?”

“No,” Loki replied; _not any longer_. He searched for a reason to have ventured here and his gaze alighted on a book on his desk. “I merely required something I left here.” Making his way over, Loki picked up the text, flipping it open and making a show of skimming and confirming it was the volume he needed before turning back to Anthony. “I will leave you to your work.”

Loki had started to do just that - straining suddenly desperate to simply be _away_ from Anthony - when the other spoke: “You may stay, Loki, if you wish.”

He paused and, normally, Loki would want nothing more than to remain in Anthony’s presence; but Loki just... couldn’t. Not now. He’d been so hopeful, so _certain_ that there was a chance for more between them, and the wound from that rejection was still too raw to nurse in Anthony’s presence. 

“Perhaps another time,” Loki answered, not quite looking at Anthony as he searched for a plausible excuse. “I must speak with my mother and find out just how well my interference with the ale last night is known.”

He saw Anthony grimace slightly from the corner of his eye, and the mage wished he could stroke Anthony’s frown away, to kiss him and assure Anthony that the actions would be well worth any minor punishment he may receive for the reward that he had gained last night. 

But now Loki knew he never could offer that type of reassurance. He knew even _thinking_ it was a useless endeavour. So the prince merely nodded at Anthony’s murmured good luck before hurrying out of Anthony’s workshop. He waited until he was just far enough out of sight so that Anthony wouldn’t see him before the mage teleported directly into his chambers.

The moment Loki was alone and protected, he leaned back heavily against the wall. He let his book drop to the floor as he covered his face with his hands. The prince rubbed his palms roughly over his skin, trying to scrub away his emotions - but his eyes still stung and his heart still felt like pieces had been ripped from it.

Loki couldn’t stop the way he just felt... heartbroken. He should have known the arrangement wouldn’t alter anything for Anthony. Loki should have been _content_ with a friendship that allowed him to occasionally have time with Anthony in his bed. And had he not been _hoping_ for the return of that arrangement just days ago? Was he not _wishing_ he could keep Anthony’s friendship, as well as their nights together? Why could he not allow himself to be satisfied with _that?_

Because Loki wanted more; he _always_ wanted more.

Pulling his hands away, the prince hissed at himself: “Enough of your self-pity. You will make this _work_. You cannot afford to have this _fail_.”

Because what would he be left with then...? A life without Anthony at all? A life where Loki didn’t have a loyal friend who caused mischief with him and who continually chose him over _Thor?_ No. Loki couldn’t bear it.

Loki would simply need to keep Anthony from learning how deeply he cared - and that would mean pretending that the rejection hadn’t hurt him. It meant _swallowing_ the pain and accepting what Anthony wanted between the both of them. The weaponsmith wanted friendship and he wanted their arrangement. What Loki wanted simply wouldn’t matter. It was the way that it had to be. 

Closing his eyes, Loki let the back of his head lightly knock against the wall, but it didn’t stop Anthony’s words from cycling through his mind: _I cannot imagine a better thing to share with you, my Prince._

Anthony couldn’t imagine them as permanent lovers without a deal; the other man had made that clear. He’d drawn a line between them that Loki could never hope to cross. 

Yet Loki knew that those words would continue to haunt him. 

_Whatever made me think I could have him?_ Loki didn’t know, but he hated himself for ever daring to believe it.

All he’d ended up doing was hurting himself.

* * *

Loki avoided Anthony for a few days after that, using the excuse of spending time with Frigga and socialising with some of the more important court members that he’d ignored at the feast. If his mother noticed what he was doing, at least she didn’t mention it.

The mage knew that he couldn’t hide from Anthony forever but, at least for a few days, he nursed the ache privately. When Loki finally made himself return to Anthony’s workshop three days later, he felt almost... guilty. Anthony was genuinely happy to see him, smiling widely and chatting easily about what had passed in the days the prince had been away. The weaponsmith looked _thrilled_ when Loki set up at his desk and remained for a few hours. Anthony just seemed to enjoy having the prince around. And why wouldn’t he? Anthony had no idea about what his words had done and considered them to be friends - and Loki needed to keep it that way.

So Loki resolved to ignore the matter - to pretend that what they shared was enough for him, as well. 

The distance was difficult to maintain, especially when Anthony would touch his arm, laugh at his remarks, or simply look so incredibly handsome that Loki felt a rush of unadulterated _want_ for the other Aesir - but... he managed. It still took the prince a good week to slip into the natural ease of their previous interactions and to push aside how much he constantly desired Anthony - but Loki was adjusting to it.

It was quite by accident, though, that Thor helped to assist him in maintaining the distance of what he wanted and what he could have. 

Thor had been attempting to foster a friendship with Anthony since meeting the forgemaster at the feast and had stopped by Anthony’s workshop on numerous evenings to invite Anthony to join him and the Warriors Three at whatever tavern they were visiting that night. Anthony had tried to avoid the invitation at first but had eventually been forced to agree. He was polite and friendly in Thor’s company and got along well enough with the group, but the whispers from gossiping Aesir was that his loyalty still remained squarely fixed with Loki.

It had made Loki’s heart flare with warmth and satisfaction when he’d heard those whispers, especially when Anthony told him of his time spent with Thor, grimacing throughout the recounting and requesting that Loki ‘ _please join him next time_.’ The request had only made Loki laugh, agree, and adore Anthony even more. Loki had done his best after that to keep an eye on Thor’s plans for his evenings in order to make sure that Anthony wouldn’t be caught alone again. 

When Thor finally did ask Anthony again, Loki made sure to be at the workshop. Thor had been surprised - but pleasantly so - and encouraged them both to join him. When they had agreed and ventured to the tavern with the elder prince, Loki was pleased to see that the rumours held true. Anthony remained a constant presence at his side throughout the night, shooting Loki pained and disbelieving looks over some of the more ludicrous commentary that they were both subjected to. It made socialising with Thor almost bearable and, when the evening ended, it was with the two of them walking back to Anthony’s workshop - all the while mocking Thor’s friends and discussing _better_ battle tactics than the ones that had been praised in Thor’s stories.

That evening’s pattern became a semi-regular routine over the following weeks with any nights that they spent at the taverns ending with Loki walking Anthony to his home. It left the prince bidding Anthony a gentle goodnight each time and feeling torn between the elation of a fabulous evening and the depressed frustration of not having what he truly wanted. 

Loki wanted to kiss Anthony goodnight after having shared a quiet, private dinner with him. He wanted Anthony to softly request that he come inside. The prince wanted there to be a natural assumption that he _would_ be staying for the night, as well as long into the morning.

But Loki refused to let that desire for more ruin what they did share: a friendship and wonderful, _companionable_ evenings spent together.

He seemed to succeed at that at least; Anthony appeared to remain oblivious to Loki’s thoughts and desires. The two men even developed a more _genuine_ friendship over the weeks that followed. It was something deeper than what they’d shared before the feast, and it made Loki feel certain that, regardless of their initial arrangement, they truly had become friends.

In fact, Loki’s dedication to hiding his own desires made him almost forget that their deal was still a standing offer between them.

The mage had been so concerned with ignoring how much he wanted Anthony that he’d been dismissing his hopes for another evening with the weaponsmith, as well. When Anthony came to see Loki in the middle of the day, he hadn’t even connected the reasoning as to _why_. 

Loki had been in his chambers researching a new spell and completely absorbed in what he was doing. He hadn’t left his rooms for three days, too intent on his studies to be distracted by the outside world. The knock to Loki’s door had jarred him from his thoughts so abruptly that Loki had snapped his head to the side, glaring viciously in the direction of the sound. He’d been furious at the interruption and had been ready to open the door if only to lecture and punish the one who had dared to disturb him - but then the prince had registered who the energy signature actually belonged to.

It was Anthony; surprise followed by affection and pleasure had quickly washed over Loki, melting his irritation along with it. He’d sighed ruefully at himself, well aware of how dangerously compromised he was before pushing up and away from his desk and making his way towards the door. 

Anthony paused after his first knock, but he soon started again; Loki had smirked slightly before pulling the door open and catching Anthony by surprise with his hand raised, ready to rap again, his eyes wide. “Hello, Anthony.”

Anthony recovered quickly with a blink and a grin. “Hello, Loki. May I enter?” 

Standing aside instead of replying, the mage let Anthony into his chambers before shutting his door. 

“I have not seen you for days,” Anthony remarked when he was inside. “Whatever has captured your interest?” Anthony’s eyes had been trailing the room but, when his gaze alighted on Loki’s desk, he made a noise of understanding. He turned back to Loki and questioned, “Am I interrupting? Would you prefer me to leave?”

Loki had to stifle the fond smile that wanted to form; no one but Frigga offered him the courtesy of such solitude. Anthony even _understood_ it and respected that the mage’s magic was as important to Loki as metalwork was to Anthony. Was it any wonder that Loki adored him?

“No,” Loki told the other Aesir, forcibly keeping the affection from his voice. “I was in need of a moment away from the tomes.” He gestured towards the various seats in his chambers. “Has Thor invited you on some new venture that you wish for me to weather as well?”

Anthony laughed. “While I do hope that you would say yes if that was the case, no, I do not come because of Prince Thor.” 

When the weaponsmith finished, there was a noticeable pause and his smile also faltered slightly. It made Loki instantly concerned. It also brought back memories of the man who had tried to blackmail Anthony, and Loki’s magic _itched_ with both the urge to destroy and to _protect_. 

Loki’s tone was sharper as he demanded: “What’s happened, Anthony?”

Anthony, far from oblivious to his change of mood, held up his hand in an attempt to calm the prince. “I assure you, it’s nothing concerning-”

“Yet it has drawn you here unannounced and looking troubled,” Loki instantly argued while stepping closer to analyse Anthony’s face, trying to work out what might have occurred while he’d been studying in his chambers.

“Well, yes,” Anthony answered, sounding faintly amused as he watched Loki with quirked eyebrows. “But it’s not what you are undoubtedly thinking; rather,” he smirked with a specific wickedness that made Loki’s heart start to race. “I have a favour I wish to ask you for - or rather, a deal.”

Loki’s body reacted on instinct: flooding him with the arousal he had been denying for weeks as Anthony stepped even to closer him. “I have need of some materials that would take me months to acquire through bartering and orders.” They were almost close enough to touch as Anthony continued, “But if I were to ask a Prince who can travel across the Nine with ease to purchase some for me? Well, I could have them in a matter of days, could I not?”

Anthony’s hand raised then and his fingers lightly ran down Loki’s tunic: a gentle caress that only left Loki trying not to shiver. Anthony’s hand ended up hovering near the waistband of Loki’s pants; the weaponsmith looked up at Loki through his eyelashes as he questioned, “Would my Prince be interested in solving my problem?”

Loki swallowed and had to resist the urge to reach for Anthony’s hip to bring their lower halves together. The prince’s voice was rougher than he’d like it to be, but he couldn’t help it. “When would you require these materials?”

“Within the week would be preferable, but two weeks would be ample.”

Loki nodded sharply. “I will arrange it.”

“I’ll give you a list,” Anthony readily agreed before, much to Loki’s surprise, his hand moved to firmly grasp the prince’s hip as he shifted onto his toes in order to slot their mouths together in a kiss.

Loki only barely quelled his moan in time, but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing back and cupping a possessive hand over Anthony’s side. The mage held him close and kissed him deeply, feeling Anthony draw an arm around Loki’s shoulder to grip the back of his tunic. Anthony was the first to deepen the kiss, swiping his tongue against the prince’s mouth and encouraging Loki to part his lips. Loki didn’t resist, but he did groan slightly when Anthony let go of his shirt to scratch his fingers lightly down Loki’s back.

The mage was forced to pull back with a gasp, already growing aroused and wanting Anthony more than anything. He wanted to press Anthony against the cushions of the nearest piece of furniture, against the _floor_ , and whisper everything he wanted to do to the other man until Anthony moaned and arched against Loki helplessly. He wanted to strip Anthony of his clothes and worship each bit of skin that the taller man hadn’t been able to see or touch for weeks.

Loki knew, though, that he couldn’t do any of it - not yet, not until his task was complete. 

“Write me your list,” the prince told Anthony on a gasp, “and come back to my rooms in a week. I will have--”

Anthony cut Loki off by kissing him again and, while Loki was surprised by the unexpectedness of the gesture, his eyes still fluttered closed as he lost himself in the sensation of Anthony’s mouth against his own. He let his hands drop to Anthony’s hips, tugging the other man closer and holding their bodies flush together as he explored Anthony’s mouth: remembering the taste, the feeling, the _sounds_ of him.

When they broke apart this time, they were both panting slightly, but Anthony’s smile was wide and his eyes bright with desire and something _wonderfully_ eager.

“You have magic to research, my Prince, and I have commissions to fill,” Anthony told Loki. “I know you will get me what I seek, and I am more than happy to spend my time with you now.” The weaponsmith rolled his hips forward, grinding them against Loki’s and making him moan; Anthony just chuckled roughly. “It will be better than tending to this ourselves - wouldn’t it, my Prince?”

Anthony moved to Loki again, but the mage stopped him. It pained Loki to do it, but he held a palm against Anthony’s chest to still the other man; Loki even pushed him back slightly, refusing to let their mouths connect as he stared at the other. 

_He’s letting me do this without payment first?_

Loki was keeping his face carefully blank, but he didn’t know how long it would last; his stomach was in knots and fingers twitched to draw Anthony back into his embrace.

“Loki?” Anthony asked, curious and almost concerned, but Loki didn’t know how to articulate what he needed to say - not without revealing something that he couldn’t risk. 

“Why would you let this happen now?” The prince eventually managed to ask, keeping his voice level somehow. There was an almost desperate hope burning inside Loki that he knew better than to allow. 

_Say you want me too much to leave this unfinished._

But Anthony just blinked at the mage before he explained, “I trust you to uphold your part of our deal.” He shrugged, but his smile never faded. “We are friends, and we both know the truth of this arrangement. We also have numerous obligations, so why not use the time that we do have to fulfil the more pleasurable part?” 

The weaponsmith smirked a little when he finished, then he leaned upwards, tilting his head in order to press his mouth to Loki’s neck. It made Loki’s eyes flutter closed, and the prince arched his neck on instinct to give Anthony more room to lightly mouth at him - giving himself more reason to be disappointed. Anthony only paused his exploration just long enough to add: “So tell me, my Prince, how would you like to have me today?”

Loki shivered as Anthony’s hands began to slide over and down his back while the other man’s mouth moved further down and towards the collar of his shirt. Arousal was blazing through Loki... but so was resignation. Anthony was more relaxed, more eager to lay with the prince and trust that he would uphold his part of the deal--but it almost hurt Loki even more. 

He had once been able to fool himself into believing that Anthony could fall for him. But now Loki had the opposite proof. The nights in his bed and their ensuing friendship had helped Anthony to like him - but not in the way the prince wanted and not in a way to make their physical relationship more permanent.

_You have no one to blame but yourself_ , Loki’s mind hissed at him.

Noticing his sudden lack of involvement in the proceedings, however, Anthony pulled back to look at him uncertainly as his hands started to slide away from the taller man. It was not unlike their earlier nights together when Anthony didn’t know how to act and second-guessed himself constantly: when he still held animosity for Loki and the position he was originally blackmailed into. 

Loki knew it would only hurt himself in the long run, but he still darted forward and kissed Anthony; the mage was determined to hold onto what he had now - what he’d had the night of the feast. Anthony now searched for fun, ease, and simplicity in these interactions, and Loki would provide it. 

He ran his hands up Anthony’s chest, brushing the other’s nipples through his shirt and making Anthony arch slightly into the prince’s touch. Anthony also finally brought his hands back to Loki, confident again in their interactions. The weaponsmith moved his hands from Loki’s arms, up and over the taller man’s shoulders before wrapping them around Loki’s neck to tangle calloused fingers in Loki’s hair. It was a pose that was so close to one shared between lovers that Loki shuddered with it. He broke the kiss only to find himself staring at Anthony. The other man’s face was flushed and his eyelids half-lidded, but Anthony was smiling at Loki; he looked... he looked like everything Loki had ever imagined, pressed against the prince and held in his arms. Loki’s breath caught in his throat and his heart _hurt_. The mage barely kept his face from falling; he barely kept _himself_ from focusing on what he didn’t have rather than on what he _did_. 

Loki wouldn’t drive Anthony away: not now, not when he needed this so desperately. 

He did make himself pull back from Anthony, though, and step back. It caused Anthony’s arms to fall from around the prince, but Loki reached out and snagged Anthony’s wrist before all contact could be lost. Loki began directing the weaponsmith towards his bed and Anthony followed him without complaint.

When they stepped inside his sleeping quarters, Loki turned to face Anthony, letting his wrist go if only to reach for the other’s shirt. Grinning now, Anthony assisted in pulling it off before doing the same with Loki’s. He also stepped closer than necessary and pressed his mouth to Loki’s sternum once it was revealed. Anthony then trailed his lips in feather-light brushes up Loki’s chest until he could reach Loki’s neck and suck lightly on where it met his shoulder, making Loki’s eyes close at the sensation.

Loki’s hand had slipped to Anthony’s head once Loki had dropped his tunic, encouraging the shorter man to explore wherever he liked; all the while, Loki threaded his fingers through Anthony’s soft, brown locks. The mage groaned a little when Anthony dropped both his attention and his mouth down to one of Loki’s nipples, flicking it with a wicked tongue while resting his hands on Loki’s ribs.

Anthony was starting to swirl his tongue in a delicious manner when Loki pulled him off and into another kiss. He also drew Anthony closer until their chests were pressed together; Anthony was almost leaning his entire weight against Loki as he let himself be gently tugged into position by the hair. It was intoxicating to be kissing the smaller man again, especially with Anthony so pliant, so _enthusiastic_ , his hands all over Loki as if he couldn’t get enough.

_This will be dangerous_ , Loki’s mind whispered, and he knew it was true.

When they broke apart again, their faces remained close and their eyes stayed locked on each other. Anthony’s thumbs were even stroking Loki’s sides in an almost affectionate gesture and his quirked smile lingered.

“How shall you have me, Loki?” Anthony wondered, his voice low and filled with desire - and far, _far_ too tempting. He also moved his hips so that he was lightly rubbing their arousals together through their pants; it made them both groan softly and made them move just close enough for their foreheads to touch. “Do you wish for me in the bed or the bath? Or perhaps against your balcony‘s railing?” The weaponsmith’s eyes were laughing as he suggested it, his forehead a beautiful touch against his own. “But it is rather visible during the day. But maybe you would enjoy masking us with your magic?”

Loki wanted all of the suggestions. He wanted them one right after the other and each and every day, and so he kissed Anthony hungrily in reply, unable to stop himself in the surge of increased desire. 

The prince knew that so many of the things he wanted, though, he couldn’t afford to allow himself. Anthony was tactile and affectionate in his touches now. Loki could already feel himself straining with the desire to be just as demonstrative, to be _more_ , and the mage knew that any addition of magic would be a mistake.

He also knew that the sight of seeing Anthony’s face crack open with pleasure could make him do something regretful. Loki didn’t trust himself not to give in if he was looking at Anthony tonight; but what position could they take to avoid that vulnerability?

Loki didn’t know how long this arrangement would continue to work for Anthony, and he didn’t want to take the chance of wasting a night experiencing something he’d already gained. But what... the prince’s mind alighted upon an idea. It was one that would keep their faces hidden but stilled gained him an intimacy, a _trust_ , that Loki coveted desperately.

He just needed to see if Anthony was willing to offer it.

When they broke apart this time, Anthony started to ask again, “How will--”

But Loki cut him off with a firmness he didn’t know how he managed. “On your stomach with me over you.”

Anthony’s eyes dilated, going dark with desire, and his hand came up to Loki’s neck to cup it and to draw the taller Aesir closer for a kiss. As Anthony did so, he whispered his words against Loki’s mouth: “Held beneath my Prince.”

Loki’s groan was swallowed by the next kiss and, with it, he lost the last of his lingering, frayed control. Loki’s hands moved to Anthony’s pants to attempt to open them, only to grow irritated and use a flick of his fingers to remove them with magic.

Anthony jerked out of the kiss and looked down at his now naked lower half, only to suddenly break into laughter. The sound was bright, unexpected, and beautiful, and Anthony’s smile made Loki never want to let him go. “Impatient, Loki?”

Loki didn’t answer directly: he just moved to kiss Anthony’s neck, latching onto skin and sucking a prominent mark. Anthony hissed with pleasure and his hands came up to Loki’s shoulders, nails digging in slightly as he encouraged Loki to keep kissing him, to keep _marking_ him.

The prince knew it was a mistake; he knew he would regret it when it was over, but Loki couldn’t stop himself from giving in to the idea, the _fantasy_ , that this was more. It was easier to enjoy himself if Loki pretended the deal didn’t exist: that Anthony had come to him with pleasure in mind - even if it wasn’t the prince’s wished-for romance.

Sliding one hand down Anthony’s side, Loki brought his hand to the hard cock that Anthony’s pants no longer concealed. When he wrapped a hand around it and stroked, Anthony shuddered and moaned, his hips twitching forward into Loki’s touch.

The mage stroked the other Aesir a few times--but it wasn’t enough, and Loki only wanted more. He wanted to be _inside_ Anthony. 

Loki made himself let Anthony go; he ignored Anthony’s whine of protest to demand, lips against Anthony’s ear, “On the bed.”

Anthony didn’t need to be told twice.

He pulled away from Loki to climb onto the bed; the moment Anthony was there, however, he shifted to face Loki while sitting crouched on his knees. His erection was proud and leaking from the tip, but his attention was for Loki. His eyes travelled over the prince’s body, lingering on his arousal. Anthony’s teeth scraped over his lower lip and his hands ran over his thighs as if he wanted to touch but knew that he couldn’t - not yet. The weaponsmith’s gaze finally drew up to Loki’s face and his eyes were dark, his cheeks slightly flushed; when Anthony smirked, it was full of promise and desire. “Coming, Loki?”

Loki barely quelled his groan: the sound came out as a small grunt even when it felt like it had taken up space in his chest, desperate to be let out. He couldn’t bear to look away from Anthony and the vision the other man presented for even a moment. Loki used magic to remove the rest of his clothing so that he could climb onto the bed to join his lover. 

The mage moved close to Anthony, their bodies almost touching and he leaned forward to brush their lips together; instead of deepening the kiss the way Anthony moved to do, he ghosted his mouth down to rest high on Anthony’s throat near his jaw. He could almost taste the flutter of Anthony’s pulse and, when Anthony hummed and threaded his fingers into Loki’s hair, he closed his eyes and sighed a little. Loki also couldn’t stop the way he smiled slightly, pressed against Anthony’s body at such a soft moment between them both. He was startled, though, when Anthony began to lean away from him - but the other man only tugged Loki down with him until Anthony was flat on his back and Loki was lying mostly on top of him, looking down at Anthony’s grinning face. Loki was then gently pulled down again until the prince was brought into another soft kiss.

It was a kiss that sent warmth through every inch of Loki’s body. The kiss spoke of affection, of enjoyment, of _happiness_. It made Loki’s chest feel like it was cracking open and spilling out every bit of emotion that he felt for the man beneath him. The extent that Anthony had overtaken Loki’s heart was something he’d known from the very start; but he’d denied it, ignored it. However, in this moment, all the prince could do was try not to let everything he’d tried so desperately hard to contain spill out across his face and into something Anthony could translate.

Loki was the one to break the kiss, gasping and burying his face in Anthony’s neck quickly. His eyes were wide open, staring unseeing at Anthony’s skin as he scrambled to pull himself back together.

He swallowed thickly and was grateful for the position he’d suggested and that arousal would mask the true reason for his rough voice and actions. Before Loki could speak, Anthony beat him to it as his mouth brushed Loki’s ear, turning his head just enough to speak: “Shall you get the oils, my Prince? I can get myself ready for you while I wait for your return.”

Loki’s breath left him in rush as his mind ran through numerous images; Norns, just the _idea_ of Anthony preparing himself _for Loki_ was enough to make his arousal throb. He focused on that desire, on the easier emotions than the ones that had previously rocked through him and left him unsteady.

“Do nothing more than lie on your stomach,” Loki hissed, shifting so he could look at Anthony. “The rest of you _I_ will prepare.”

Anthony’s smirk spread across his face, slow and wicked. “I will hardly say no to that, my Prince.” He started to shift beneath the other Aesir while Loki pulled back, unable to keep from watching as Anthony rolled with ease and trust until he was flat on his stomach, his bum just waiting for Loki to spread with his fingers. Anthony glanced over his shoulder briefly to tell Loki, a purr in his voice: “I am yours to take, Loki.”

_No, you’re not_ , the prince’s mind whispered, and Loki very nearly flinched but hid it by moving to grab the oil he kept beside his bed. Loki had the oil there for this purpose and for his own pleasure when there was nothing but memories and dreams to haunt his mind. He grasped the bottle in a firm hand and shoved the lingering, painful thoughts away as he turned back to Anthony. **

The weaponsmith had his arms crossed under his chin and was lying with his face to the side, watching Loki and only lightly shifting his hips, his erection caught between his stomach and the bedding as he sought some form of friction. Loki took a moment to simply look at his lover before he made his way back across the bed. He settled himself over Anthony’s legs, placing the oil beside his knee as he ran his palms over Anthony’s lower back before sliding down the other man’s cheeks, cupping them against the palms of his hands and lightly dragging his index fingers between them, spreading Anthony just slightly for Loki’s viewing pleasure.

Anthony sighed and went boneless beneath the prince. He was so trusting, so _willing_ , and Loki felt shaken to the core as he stared down at Anthony’s back. _This is Anthony when he does this of his own volitation. This is a deal, but I am also his friend. What would it be like if he... if we..._

But Loki cut the thought off, letting Anthony go and reaching out to grip the oil instead. He poured some onto his fingers and rubbed them together to warm the oil before moving to spread Anthony again. Loki let his fingers gently stroke around the weaponsmith’s rim as he made sure Anthony was relaxed. Anthony just squirmed beneath the prince and tried to arch himself up for a firmer touch. Loki smiled a little but obliged, sliding one finger into Anthony and revelling in the other man’s shaky exhale and the way his hands moved from under his head to clench the bedding.

Loki watched Anthony’s every movement as he took his time preparing the smaller Aesir. He let Anthony feel every stretch and drag of his fingers as he moved them in and out of the man beneath him. Loki took the time to gently rub his finger over Anthony’s pucker before adding another digit. Anthony was all but rolling his hips into the bed by the time the prince was on three fingers. Loki made sure to gently brush the other man’s prostate before he dragged them out. Anthony was sweating and panting, begging for more while Loki’s arousal was hard and throbbing with need.

The mage poured some extra oil on his hand before stroking his erection twice, coating it and making himself moan slightly at the sensation before he rearranged himself over Anthony. “Anthony-”

“Do it,” Anthony groaned, arching slightly to better assist Loki before the prince spread Anthony wide and began to enter the heat of his lover’s body.

They both moaned loudly at the feeling, and Loki saw Anthony scrambling to grab and clench a pillow as Loki continued to breach him. The man beneath him was deliciously tight, and the heat and feel of him was everything Loki remembered it to be. It, and the sounds of Anthony - the taste, the _trust_ \- it was intoxicating and, when Loki finally sheathed himself completely, he all but collapsed forward; he barely kept himself from crushing the other as his hands pressed into the bed on either side of Anthony’s ribs. Loki’s head was bowed, his hair and forehead lightly brushing Anthony’s back as the prince tried to catch his breath.

Anthony whined wordlessly and tried to push back against him. “ _Loki_ ,” he groaned, sounding shaky and desperate. His body was begging the mage as much as his voice. “ _More_.”

Loki was helpless to resist as he pulled out of his lover, the drag making them both moan at the pleasure before Loki thrust back into him. The pace was slow as Loki couldn’t bring himself to rush it. Anthony was cursing him for the slow speed as often as he was crying out his pleasure. When Loki managed to angle himself to firmly hit Anthony’s prostate on each thrust, Anthony began to bury his face in the pillow to stifle his cries.

The prince could only shakily breathe and try not to moan Anthony’s name. The slow motions, their position, and the way Anthony was chanting his name and almost sobbing for him to go faster - it filled Loki’s head with a heady rush. It filled his _chest_ with a powerful pleasure he could only fall headfirst into. The mage even stopped sometimes, rocking his hips but not withdrawing from Anthony as he caught his breath and tried to stave off his orgasm as he kissed and mouthed at Anthony’s back while Anthony begged him to move.

When Anthony used one such time to clench his muscles as tightly as he could around Loki’s cock, Loki had shouted and very nearly came. He’d bitten Anthony’s shoulder for it and had received a yelp followed by a rough laugh in answer. Anthony had tried to look back at the prince but hadn’t been able to because of their position. The forgemaster had threatened to do it to Loki again if Loki didn’t move--so Loki had withdrawn from him, but he had slid back in with a slowness that was almost physically painful to continue... but it was worth it for the way Anthony had whined at him.

Loki enjoyed every moment of it; but, for every thrust inside Anthony, he grew closer and closer to his orgasm. The prince could feel it building inside him, and Anthony must have been able to tell the difference because his moans changed, becoming more encouraging as he arched himself into every thrust and clenched over the head of Loki’s cock on every withdrawal. It was gorgeous to see, and Loki shifted to better quicken his pace, chasing his orgasm as he panted heavily against the damp press of the other man’s skin. Anthony’s hitched breaths and the choked sounds of the prince’s name rushed through Loki’s ears and, with his eyes closed and his body attuned to the man beneath him, Loki thrust only a few more times before he was coming inside Anthony with a deep moan and a last few stilted jerks of his hips.

The pleasure was exquisite and, when the final waves of his orgasm had passed, Loki slowly came back to the world around him. He looked down at Anthony who was squirming helplessly and he blinked, surprised to find that Anthony’s hands were still wrapped around the pillow rather than trying to stroke himself to completion as the weaponsmith had done in the past. The sight filled Loki with something... possessive and deeply pleased. 

He pulled out of Anthony - who only groaned at the loss - but Loki quickly moved down Anthony’s body, moving his fingers to slide into Anthony’s empty hole and making Anthony hiss his name at the feeling of suddenly being full once again. Loki brought his other hand under Anthony’s arched hips to grip his hard cock. It throbbed in Loki’s hand and the next sound Anthony made was stifled; the prince glanced up to find Anthony burying his face in the pillow and biting it.

Loki was so incredibly fond of the man at that moment that he instinctively bent forward to press his mouth to the base of Anthony’s spine in a gentle kiss of both apology and affection. He knew it was a mistake the moment he did it but, when he tried to pull back, Anthony just whined and shifted to follow the prince’s touch. 

Relieved and happier than he wanted to admit, Loki continued to use his fingers and hand to wring moans and pleasure from Anthony while covering the other man’s lower back in brushes of his lips and scrapes of his teeth.

It was one such scrape - combined with a brush to Anthony’s prostate and a tight squeeze of the prince’s long fingers over the head of Anthony’s cock - that made the other Aesir stiffen and come with a muffled cry against the bedding. 

Loki worked him through it: gentling or stopping his motions as Anthony became too sensitive to enjoy it. When Loki eventually slid his fingers free from Anthony and released his cock, the mage placed a final press of his lips to Anthony’s spine before he pulled back and off Anthony completely. **He didn’t go far - merely resting on the bed beside the weaponsmith and watching the other. The mage did summon the items he would need to clean Anthony - but, for the moment, he just wanted to look.

Anthony did ultimately shift, turning his head to face Loki; he looked blissful and flushed and Loki just wanted to brush the sweaty hair away from his eyes. Anthony’s gaze alighted on the bowl of water and cloth, and he seemed to relax further against the bed. 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t make me stand just yet,” Anthony commented with a grin.

Taking it for the hint it was - and refusing to say how much he would like to have Anthony remain for the entire day- Loki dipped the cloth in the warm water and took to cleaning Anthony. It was a simple act, but one that he had come to treasure. Anthony shivered a little at the touch, still incredibly sensitive, and Loki wondered - not for the first time - if he’d ever have the chance to put his mouth to Anthony there. If Anthony was the kind of man who would like it - but Loki didn’t let himself dwell on the thought, not when he was likely to become aroused and unable to do anything but take care of it himself. 

The cleaning didn’t take him long; when he was finished, Loki expected Anthony to leave the bed and begin to dress, but Anthony surprised him by rolling onto his back and shifting just enough to rest his head on the pillow. He was still lazily grinning at Loki as he gave a full body stretch before relaxing against the bedding and asking: “What were you researching before I interrupted you, Loki? It must be rather interesting if it has held your attention for multiple days.”

Loki was so shocked at the sudden conversation that it took him a few moments to respond. “A new ward.”

Anthony nodded. “You’ve told me that wards are very complex to cast?”

“Yes,” Loki agreed. “If you want them to keep out threats or warn you of people approaching a certain item or location, you must be a very well-practiced user of seidr as well as powerful enough to maintain it.”

Anthony smiled at the other Aesir. “Well, I have little doubt you’ll master the ward. A more determined and powerful mage I think you would be hard pressed to find.” 

Loki swallowed thickly at the compliment; the pleasure was only further amplified by having it said to him by Anthony when the other man was lying naked in Loki’s bed and still showing the languid air and marks of their just-finished activities. 

“We will see,” Loki answered neutrally. “I am still researching it.”

Anthony nodded before stretching once more and sitting up. Loki shifted, attempting to stop him, but he quelled the urge quickly enough that Anthony didn’t notice as he stood. He turned to Loki and flashed him the smile that Loki was always greeted with whenever he came to see Anthony. “Well, I will not keep you. I will come and see you tomorrow and give you my list. When you finish your research or you wish for a break, you’re always welcome to come to my workshop.”

“I... will see,” Loki said, trying to force out a response when he was still trying to understand what was happening.

Anthony just nodded and began picking up his clothes; he chuckled upon grabbing his pants - only to pause and look at Loki with a curious expression. “Can your magic put them on me as easily as they take them off?”

Loki swallowed thickly and flicked his fingers rather than responding aloud. Anthony clothes were in his hands and on the floor at one moment and on him the next. Anthony looked down at himself with surprise before he grinned.

“ _That_ is useful. I will have to remember to ask you for it again when next I need your help.” The weaponsmith followed it up with a wink that only served to sink Loki’s heart. Anthony was, as always, oblivious to Loki’s reactions. “But I will leave you to your magic. I wish you luck with researching your ward, Loki.”

“Thank you,” Loki managed to get out, sitting on the bed and feeling... foolish, completely foolish, as Anthony bid him farewell before making his way out of Loki’s chambers without preamble - without a care.

Loki flinched when he heard the door close and allowed his mask to slip as he pinched the bridge of his nose, following Anthony’s energy signature as it walked away. _This is what it is like to have him now: to have his body for a brief time and his friendship the rest of the day._

It made Loki feel... cold. 

His bed was empty, his _heart_ was empty, and somehow it seemed to cut into him even further to have a closer relationship with Anthony that wasn’t the kind that Loki ultimately wanted. When it was a transaction, a _deal_ , the mage didn’t have to contend with hope: with the way his heart rose and his body sung at being able to kiss Anthony longer, to laugh with him as they lay together on the prince’s bed - to see the weaponsmith’s quick smiles and hear his easy chatter in the aftermath.

Norns help him, but Loki wanted more - and the prince was beginning to worry that what he had now wasn’t ever going to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think a few of you predicted something like this might happen, so, for whoever did, kudos! For everyone else, I hoped you liked. I would also recommend keeping that box of tissues close as this and the miscommunication between these boys isn't over yet...


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, chapter seven... I have to wonder if you're going to be ready for this ;P

Anthony did as he promised: he came by the next day and gave Loki a list of items, suppliers, money, and any further instructions that the prince might need to fulfil Anthony’s request. After the exchange was done, Anthony didn’t even linger in Loki’s chambers; the weaponsmith just clapped Loki’s shoulder and wished him the best of luck with his current project. Anthony also made sure to assure Loki that he could always come by Anthony’s workshop if he needed assistance or company.

Loki did try to return to studying the ward, but he found it exceedingly difficult to lose himself in his studies once Anthony had left.

The mage ended up leaving Asgard that same day in order to search out Anthony’s items. They were easy to find and he completed his task within two days, but Loki decided to linger on Vanaheim, hoping that the distance of planets would help to dislodge some of the heartache that he was feeling.

But it didn’t, and Loki’s mind remained firmly fixed on Anthony.

When he finally returned to Asgard and gave Anthony his items, the forgemaster was thrilled and grateful that Loki had obtained everything for him so quickly. He thanked Loki profusely and rambled for long minutes on what he intended to do with the new supplies. Loki had only been able to watch, helplessly fond, as Anthony rushed into his commissions and designs. The prince eventually left after a few minutes to go back to his rooms and his own research, but his mind remained lingered on Anthony. 

Loki forced himself to ignore the distraction over the coming days and, eventually, things began to return to how they were before. The two men spent casual afternoons together and nights at the tavern with Thor. Anthony even attended another feast, spending his time talking and laughing with Loki. Anthony had made his own way home once it was over and neither of them had drunk too much wine or ended up in another corridor - but it had still been a lovely evening.

Weeks passed the same way and, while Anthony remained friendly and affectionate, Loki’s desires never faded. The prince also found himself growing increasingly torn at the idea of Anthony coming to his rooms and requesting their deal again. 

Loki knew what it would bring him now: Anthony’s smiles, his laughter, and his eager touches. Anthony would arch into Loki’s hands and body. He would moan Loki’s name and encourage him - _are you coming, Loki?_ and _do it_ \- only to chat with the prince in the aftermath as if everything they’d just shared meant nothing. The intimacy shared between them held no additional importance to Anthony than any other activity they shared, and Loki found that hard to weather.

He hadn’t been able to give the problem his full attention - Loki hadn’t _wanted_ to - and a timely celebration helped him ignore it for a little while longer. The festivities were being held on Asgard, and the holiday brought with it various dignitaries from Alfheim and Vanaheim. 

Loki was required to socialise with the newcomers during the lavish dinners as well as throughout the days’ activities. Anthony understood the prince’s preoccupation; in fact, in the few moments Loki had managed to spare to check on the other, he saw that Anthony was just as busy with the delegates as he was.

It seemed that Thor’s boasts about Anthony’s talents and the time Anthony had been spending in the company of the Asgardian royal family had not gone unnoticed. Anthony had received a rush of commissions not only from the Aesir but also from the ambassadors who had heard tales of his craft. 

Loki was almost irritated at the amount of demands for weapons that were being levelled at Anthony. Loki knew how likely Anthony was to forgo sleep and food for the sake of his deadlines. The prince would have checked on the other man more frequently, would have also tried to encourage him to take better care of himself - but Loki didn’t have the time to do so at the moment. 

The dignitaries were only scheduled to remain on Asgard for five days, but Loki was forced to spend more time than he wished in their company. He felt worn down by the third day and was actively searching for any means of escape. Normally, Loki enjoyed speaking to the men and women of Alfheim; they had always enjoyed his company and spoke to him of magic and happenings in their realm. They even requested he visit them again - but with their favour, so too, came their agendas. Loki was, on more than one occasion, presented with the son or daughter of a dignitary in the hopes that the prince might enjoy their company and take them as either a lover or a consort.

It was _tiring_. It also reminded Loki of the one person he _couldn’t_ have at his side, and the entire situation always left him feeling sour.

The mage was in the middle of another such gathering: an informal lunch filled with various members of all three courts, including his mother. Loki had been mostly ignoring an irritating conversation about a dignitary’s wedding when a servant unexpectedly approached him. 

Loki had been startled enough to actually pay attention to the girl as she nervously whispered, “A note for you, Prince Loki.”

She’d held out a sealed envelope, the edge of which had a smudge of charcoal that caught Loki’s eye. The sight of it made Loki’s stomach twist as his mind instantly turned to Anthony. He couldn’t be certain, of course, as the wax seal had no pattern or indicated as to who had sent it.

“From whom?” he enquired, well aware that the people around him were watching and listening.

“Anthony Howardson.” She swallowed, still not quite holding his eyes. “He asked it to be delivered immediately. He said that it was of importance.”

Loki had never been so grateful for the public’s awareness of their friendship. It not only meant that most of the people around him lost interest and went back to their conversation, but it had allowed the servants to accept Anthony’s note and request without second thought. The envelope would have needed to pass through multiple hands to find him and, while Loki still sent magic over the item just to be certain, it didn’t seem to have been tampered with.

Taking it, Loki promptly dismissed the girl and she hurried away. He opened the letter quickly, keeping the writing averted from others’ eyes, but it only had a single line written in Anthony’s hasty scrawl. _Please. I need your assistance._

Loki’s heart fell, fear rushing through him as his mind raced with possibilities. The mage clenched the note tightly in his hand before making a few apologetic excuses for leaving to the few people he couldn’t afford to offend. Frigga eyed him with concern from across the room, but Loki didn’t stop to explain. The moment he was out of the room, he teleported himself directly into Anthony’s workshop, barely taking the time to check that the other was alone.

Anthony jerked backwards slightly when Loki appeared right in front of him, but the mage merely ran his worried eyes over Anthony. Anthony looked... haggard - as if the weaponsmith hadn’t bathed or slept for days. His workshop, when Loki glanced at it, was a mess; paper and weapons littered every available surface.

“ _Anthony_ ,” Loki whispered and his hand automatically rose, wanting to cup Anthony’s cheek or brush the hair from his forehead - but the prince was stopped, not by the desperate look in Anthony’s eyes but by the way he put his hands on Loki’s shoulders and started pushing the taller Aesir backwards.

Loki let himself be moved, too startled to resist, until he ended up with his back against a wall. 

“Anthony?” he tried again, concerned, but Anthony cut him off.

“I have too many orders,” Anthony hissed, “people all demanding I make things for them, and it’s impossible to refuse them - and I’ve _finished_ , but I can’t--” The weaponsmith let out a rough breath and his head tipped forward, the very ends of his hair brushing Loki’s shoulder. “I can’t get them all out. I’ll miss my deadline. I _can’t_ miss it.”

The forgemaster drew his eyes up to Loki, looking both frantic and hopeful. “I know you’re busy and I know that I must have called you away from something important, my Prince, but please. I need your magic. I need these sent to the ones who commissioned them.”

Loki blinked, shocked at the emotions that were naked on Anthony’s face - at the fact the weaponsmith even _doubted_ that Loki would agree to help him.

“Where do they need to go?” the mage questioned and Anthony slumped forward with relief. His forehead actually rested on Loki’s shoulder as he let out a shuddering breath at the other’s instant agreement. Loki couldn’t stop himself from bringing a hand up to lightly rest on Anthony’s back: a fraction of the comfort that he wanted to give.

His touch seemed to galvanise Anthony, however, as the shorter man pulled back; before Loki could react, Anthony pressed their mouths together.

Loki’s eyes flew wide with shock and, while he wanted to kiss Anthony back, there was something... wrong about the kiss, something that sunk his heart and made him turn his face and mouth away. “Anthony--”

“You’re busy,” Anthony nodded in agreement, his voice almost a pant, his cornered desperation still obvious. “I know.” He swallowed. “I am, as well. I cannot...” 

**Anthony let out a hissed breath before suddenly dropping to his knees, his hands moving to Loki’s pants and beginning to untie them. Loki was frozen for a long moment, desire already beginning to flood and harden his cock at the mere _sight_ of Anthony kneeling before him--but his stomach was beginning to feel slightly sick.

Loki still made himself speak, made himself _demand_ , but it was with a voice far rougher than he wanted it to be: “What are you doing?”

“I cannot give you your due, not anytime soon, not at _all_ if our schedules remain what they are.” The weaponsmith got Loki’s pants the rest of the way open and slid his hand inside to grasp Loki’s cock, making Loki’s hips twitch instinctively. “But I can give you this.”

Loki wanted to fight it, to _deny_ it - _I would give you my help for nothing_ \- but Anthony was stroking him to hardness, and the prince was too weak to say no, especially when Anthony shifted his pants further down his hips. It was just enough to allow Anthony to remove Loki’s erection completely before the shorter man leant forward and took the head into his mouth.

Anthony sucked firmly while his tongue swiped over the tip, causing Loki to moan and jerk his hips deeper into the heat of the forgemaster’s mouth. His hand came down to curl into Anthony’s hair, but Anthony only hummed his approval before sliding his mouth even further down Loki’s cock.

The prince was completely hard by this point, unable to do anything but react: to grip Anthony’s hair and try not to thrust as Anthony’s warm mouth enveloped his cock, taking him inside without hesitance, without care. The weaponsmith’s tongue laved and licked Loki’s shaft as Anthony deliberately swallowed around him. Loki groaned and ground his head back against the wall, a small whine escaping him when Anthony slowly pulled off, tonguing at the head for a moment when his mouth was free.

“My mouth is yours, my Prince,” Anthony told him, his voice raw, rough, and _gorgeous_ \- and Loki looked down at him. The weaponsmith’s eyes were dark and locked on Loki’s, his lips full, red, and wet. He brought his hand up to grasp Loki’s own, encouraging the mage to take a better position and grip more of Anthony’s hair between his slender fingers. 

“My mouth is yours,” Anthony repeated before he slid one hand up Loki’s thigh to grasp at the prince’s hip. The other took the base of Loki’s cock to help hold him in place as Anthony slid his mouth back over the mage’s erection.

If there had been any tease to Anthony’s motions before, they were gone now as he swallowed Loki down, bobbing his head and taking the prince in greedily. Anthony was enthusiastic and determined, wringing pleasure from Loki and making his breath hitch as he fought not to moan too loudly or thrust too deeply.

Anthony moaned, as well, whenever Loki pulled on his hair or tugged him off his cock, letting the weaponsmith suckle or lick at the head before pulling him back down, making him take in and swallow around every inch of Loki’s cock. Anthony’s eyes were closed, a high flush on his cheeks as both hands now rested on Loki’s thighs, digging in and massaging as he worked Loki’s cock to both of their satisfaction.

It was too much for Loki, too _perfect_. He was able to look down at Anthony and see nothing but lips spread wide over his cock and concentrated dedication to his pleasure. The prince could feel Anthony’s mouth around him, the vibration of the forgemaster’s soft groans as if he was experiencing as much pleasure as Loki was.

Watching Anthony, touching his hair and having Anthony take him all the way inside, his throat clenching around the head of Loki’s cock - it was all Loki needed. He could only grind his head back against the stone and bite down on his lip to keep the other’s name trapped inside as he thrust deep into Anthony’s mouth and let his orgasm wash over him.

And Anthony took it. 

He hummed his approval around Loki’s jerking cock, swallowing every drop of Loki’s release as he let Loki thrust, unchecked, into his mouth, chasing the last of his own, cresting pleasure.

When the prince was finished, Anthony slowly slid off his softening cock, leaving Loki panting and flushed against the wall. Anthony stayed on his knees just long enough to tuck Loki back inside his pants and retie them before he stood. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, clearing away any remaining traces of saliva or Loki’s release.

**Anthony had a high flush to his cheeks and Loki could see the arousal that was tenting his pants, but the weaponsmith turned away before Loki could try to reach for him. He ran a rough hand through his hair and glanced over his numerous and overflowing tables before looking back at Loki. The same hopeless desperation was back in Anthony’s eyes. The pleasure, the arousal, was long dismissed. “There’re over twenty commissions; do you have the time now, Loki?”

Loki’s good mood vanished - and any enjoyment still lingering in his muscles and heart disappeared with it. Wordlessly, Loki just nodded at the forgemaster, unable to come up with a single thing to say. He felt... horrible, despicable, _hollow_ for the first time since he’d started this. _Does he truly believe I would never have helped him without **payment?**_

The thought turned Loki’s stomach, and he only felt worse knowing that he had _accepted_ and had _encouraged_ that lie from the very beginning. He had also seen Anthony at his feet and hadn’t been able to do anything but take what was being offered, to enjoy every moment of it and crave even more. He wanted to take Anthony into his own mouth in turn, take the other man in his _hand_. He wanted to soothe every trace of stress, kiss the other man’s brow and promise to help Anthony whenever he needed it.

Loki would have helped Anthony without payment – the prince didn’t _want_ to get payment anymore. He wanted to help Anthony for the sake of helping him. He didn’t want to trade sex as a _commodity_ when Anthony thought that was the only way he could sway Loki into assisting him. It wasn’t - it _never was_ \- it was only a means of getting the one thing, the one _person_ , he wanted but otherwise couldn’t have. 

Now Loki knew the truth: the intimacy wasn’t worth having, not if it was traded like this.

_I can’t do this anymore._

The thought rang crystal clear through Loki’s mind and he couldn’t deny the truth of it, not anymore. Anthony was his friend, but he was also... more to Loki than he would ever be to Anthony; that realisation, that _knowledge_ , cut into Loki deep enough to make every part of him hurt.

_This will never be enough._

Closing his eyes for one long, aching moment, Loki wrapped his composure around himself. He forced himself to pretend, one more time, that he wasn’t breaking apart as he stepped forward and helped Anthony with his orders. It was simple enough: the work of ten minutes and, when it was done, Anthony looked beyond relieved, beyond grateful. Anthony also promised that Loki could come find him whenever the mage wanted to claim the rest of their arrangement.

Loki considered saying no, considered telling Anthony that he had collected all he was going to take - but the words stuck on his tongue: one more proof of the prince’s own consuming, unforgivable weakness for this man. And so Loki merely nodded before disappearing the way that he’d originally arrived by.

The mage didn’t go back to the ambassadors or to his duties despite knowing that he should. Loki went to his room instead - the one place he could lower his guard and not have to fear that another would see him while he felt so vulnerable.

Loki walked with heavy feet to his desk chair and all but collapsed into the seat. He leant back in the chair, tipping his head until he could stare, unseeing, up at the ceiling. The prince felt weary, he felt _wretched_ , and he knew that the next time he visited Anthony truly would be the last. He couldn’t keep doing this - not to himself and not to Anthony.

They’d had more nights together than Loki had originally anticipated when he started their deal. He’d even managed to experience numerous fantasies and developed a friendship with Anthony - something that Loki hadn’t dared dream he’d gain when making his proposition.

Loki had thought he could cope, that the brief moments together and a supportive, genuine, _wonderful_ friend would be enough in the end - but it wasn’t. He couldn’t keep doing this to himself. He couldn’t keep settling for something that would never be enough. In the end, it would destroy the mage. 

The thought made Loki close his eyes and let out a rough breath. He knew what he needed to do, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t be difficult - that it wouldn’t _hurt_ him far more than he wanted to admit. Because, in the end, Loki would see Anthony once more, he would _have_ Anthony again, and then it would be over - every part of it. 

There was nothing else Loki could do, not if he wanted to salvage even a shred of his heart.

* * *

Loki made himself wait to visit Anthony again until after the ambassadors had left.

He gave them as much of his attention as he could manage, trying to ignore where his thoughts wanted to go, especially when some of the men and women who had gained commissions from Anthony wanted to talk about the items - to talk about _Anthony_. Loki tried to avoid those conversations.

When the dignitaries had finally left and there was little else for him to do, there was nothing to stop Loki from seeking out Anthony.

The thoughts of what they’d do when he saw Anthony again had haunted the prince’s evenings. He’d spent his nights lying in bed, free of distractions and unable to stop his mind from turning to the other Aesir. It ached: a continuous throbbing that took control of Loki’s chest every time his mind even drifted to what he was planning to do.

But there was no other alternative; if he couldn’t have Anthony the way he wanted, then Loki couldn’t have the other man at all. It would be too dangerous - not only for the prince’s heart but also for the truth of his affections.

However... it didn’t mean Loki couldn’t have one of the fantasies he hadn’t yet allowed himself. The prince had still agonised over the choice but, in the end, he’d known what he wanted and where.

Loki spent the afternoon in his chambers, waiting for Anthony’s workshop to clear of potential customers, waiting until evening had fallen and Anthony had packed up his things and walked through his gardens and reached his _home_. 

Loki took in a steadying breath before he closed his eyes. He hoped for strength as he teleported to Anthony’s backdoor, landing inches from the other. Anthony was bathed in moonlight and despite spending a day at the forge, it was obvious he hadn’t done much physical work; the weaponsmith was free of soot and sweat. While his outfit was rumpled, it was in disarray from greeting customers, not from hammering metal.

Anthony had flinched slightly at the mage’s arrival, tensing for a moment before he recognised Loki and smiled. He seemed faintly amused, though, and he glanced at their surroundings before back at Loki with curiosity. The forgemaster was watching Loki with the fondness of a friend, and it made sadness rush over Loki - he tried to ignore it, but Loki knew he would _miss_ that. He would miss Anthony.

“I didn’t expect you to arrive here,” Anthony remarked. “I thought perhaps you might--”

But Loki didn’t want to hear it - he didn’t want to hear anything about their deal; Loki just wanted _Anthony_. The prince wanted to pretend that this night, their _final_ night together, wasn’t an arrangement. He wanted it to be based on affection, desire - something _mutual_.

So Loki kissed Anthony and, while Anthony made a small noise Loki couldn’t quantify, he still brought a hand to Loki’s neck and kissed him back. Loki brought his own hand forward, running it up Anthony’s arm from elbow to neck. Anthony relaxed into his touch and curled himself even closer.

The kiss was softer than it should have been and Loki knew he was giving too much away. The kiss was less about desire and more about just wanting to take his time in touching Anthony. The prince ended up pressing Anthony against the door, and his free hand moved to Anthony’s hip as his fingers slid slightly under Anthony’s tunic.

When they eventually broke apart for air, they were both gasping slightly and their foreheads pressed together snugly, as well as their hips. Loki could feel the beginning of Anthony’s arousal pressed against and matching his own.

Anthony let out a huff of amusement, the breath brushing Loki’s jaw before Anthony’s quirked smile pressed against the same spot. His mouth trailed up towards Loki’s ear where he murmured, “How would you like me tonight, my Prince?”

Loki was glad Anthony couldn’t see the way his eyes squeezed shut tightly at the words, but the prince couldn’t stop the way his hand spasmed against Anthony’s hip. Loki hoped Anthony assumed his reaction to be through arousal spurred on by the forgemaster’s words, rather than pain.

The mage slid his hand under Anthony’s shirt, touching firm muscle and ignoring any and all of his own responses and feelings beyond enjoying the moment. Loki didn’t want to sour this immediate intimacy by tainting it with the knowledge of losing Anthony in the future. The mage shifted his mouth to brush Anthony’s cheek before answering, “Underneath me, in your bed.”

Loki had chosen that location deliberately. He wanted to be in Anthony’s space again, pretending they had come back from a tavern together and were enjoying themselves. Loki had also made the decision selfishly, wanting their last time to be in a place that wasn’t his own. He hoped the distance in location would help keep memories from invading his mind every time he tried to sleep.

Anthony shivered at the taller Aesir’s words; he’d also nodded before beginning to pull away. Loki had forced himself to let Anthony go as Anthony opened the door - only to drag Loki inside by the sleeve of his tunic. Loki didn’t mind, not when it allowed him to touch Anthony again and draw the weaponsmith into another kiss once the door was closed.

Anthony’s hands came up to tangle in the prince’s dark hair, encouraging Loki to deepen the kiss and making a groan catch in Loki’s throat. Loki’s hands slid down to Anthony’s waist, tugging their lower halves together again and making the kiss break for Anthony to moan at the suddenness of the feeling.

When the mage caught Anthony’s eyes, though, he found that, while desire was in them, so was laughter. Anthony was smiling. “Would you prefer to teleport us or shall we attempt to navigate the halls?”

The weaponsmith didn’t wait long for an answer, preferring to move forward to bring his mouth to Loki’s throat, sucking on the skin and making a hitched breath escape past the mage’s parted lips. Loki’s eyes fell closed as he placed a hand in Anthony’s hair, encouraging him to continue his attentions on Loki’s neck. At the same time, the mage also took the moment to concentrate on the layout of the house and where they needed to go. 

He used a burst of magic to teleport them to Anthony’s room and, while Anthony did pull back from the mage in surprise, Loki was rewarded by the sight of Anthony’s wide, slightly darkened eyes and breathless, wondering exclamation. Loki knew the abrupt rush and tingle of magic over skin had been intoxicating for him to experience during his first few teleports, and the sight that Anthony felt the same made it impossible for Loki to do anything but kiss him.

Loki also brought his hand to the hem of Anthony’s tunic, pushing it up. Anthony broke the kiss to oblige him in its removal, throwing it to the ground once the shirt cleared his head before moving on to tackle Loki’s own - which quickly joined Anthony’s on the floor. The lights in Anthony’s chambers had automatically begun to glow and made the room feel like it was bathed in firelight. Loki adored the look it gave Anthony’s skin, and he let his hands map Anthony’s chest before Loki brought his mouth back to Anthony’s. The mage simply couldn’t get enough, and there was a desperate urgency to his touches that Loki couldn’t stop. 

The prince _needed_ Anthony. He needed to touch him, taste him, _take_ him. Loki had told himself he’d go slow and savour every moment, but he was burning with the need to just _have_ the weaponsmith. Loki wanted to place Anthony beneath him on the bed and consume the shorter man, to make Anthony feel a _fraction_ of the desire that Loki always felt for the other Aesir.

Loki found himself directing Anthony towards the bed before he could consciously think about it.

The mage skimmed his hands down Anthony’s chest, breaking the kiss yet again so that he could glance down and watch himself untie the other’s pants. Anthony was already firm and hard from the kisses and exploratory touches alone, and Loki couldn’t resist cupping him through his pants. It made Anthony moan before his hands came to Loki’s back, fingernails lightly scraping down Loki’s skin. It made Loki arch helplessly all while Anthony ground himself greedily up against Loki’s hand.

Loki couldn’t resist using the heel of his hand to press against Anthony’s arousal, making the weaponsmith let out a soft whine accompanied by a harsh pant. Loki was tempted to do more, but he had to stop himself from teasing if he wanted to have Anthony on the bed. The prince moved his grip to Anthony’s lightly twitching hips instead, stroking the skin soothingly. 

Anthony’s next breath was a harsh exhale, but it soon became something of a chuckle as his mouth found its way to Loki’s ear. His teeth lightly nipped the lobe before tugging it gently, making Loki shiver at the sensation. 

The forgemaster then asked, almost teasingly, “What happened to magic, my Prince?” Anthony’s breath was hot on Loki’s skin. “It could have us on the bed far sooner than this.” His hands still rested on Loki’s back, but Anthony’s fingers lightly danced down Loki’s spine before one of his calloused hands snaked round to lightly palm Loki’s erection through his pants. It made the mage moan and twitch forward. “We could be _unclothed_ far sooner,” Anthony continued, “and perhaps you could even introduce me to more uses for your spells?”

Loki let out a heavy breath, and his mind rushed with possibilities. The mage wanted to do it. He wanted to use his magic to break Anthony apart with pleasure. He wanted to see the flush of arousal travel over Anthony’s skin, see the weaponsmith’s shocked eyes at what he was feeling, and hear his moans and pleas for completion. Loki wanted to learn exactly what Anthony enjoyed and what he didn’t. Loki wanted to know exactly how to please Anthony, as well as learn the story behind each scar that decorated the weaponsmith’s skin. The prince wanted to be able to climb into Anthony’s bed as often as he climbed into his own.

But Loki knew the reality of this situation. He knew the truth and it was why, while he _did_ remove their clothing with a spell and push Anthony down onto the bed to be caged underneath his taller frame, Loki _didn’t_ use any more magic with Anthony - nor did he intend to do so for the rest of the night.

Loki’s magic was a part of him he didn’t share with many lovers as there were few who would accept it with such encouragement. Anthony might want it and might enjoy the spells Loki had trialled and perfected with some of his Alfheim lovers - but the mage couldn’t bring himself to use it so carelessly. His affection for Anthony made it too dangerous; opening up his magic would be like opening up his heart. Loki couldn’t be certain how much of his emotions wouldn’t pour out of him, tainting the spells and revealing everything to Anthony.

No, Loki’s magic was one of the few things he could never fully share with Anthony. He’d learned the mistake of it the night of the feast: false hope, false happiness. The mage couldn’t risk anything like that again.

He focused instead on kissing Anthony. 

He was lying directly over the top of the weaponsmith, bracing himself on his forearms on either side of Anthony’s torso as their bodies laid pressed together. Anthony’s arms had come around behind the prince’s back, one hand moving to Loki’s longer hair as he used the nails of the other to lightly scratch soft patterns on pale skin. It made Loki shiver and Anthony smile into the kiss.

When they broke apart, Loki had planned to speak but found his words fading as he just looked at the man beneath him. Anthony had a small quirked grin, his hair was a mess, and his eyes were bright with arousal. The weaponsmith was relaxed, beautiful, _happy_ , and Loki found himself memorising the moment and the picture that Anthony made.

“Loki?” Anthony asked, and a small, curious frown marred his brow. He also ran his palm up Loki’s back, touch soft and almost soothing. 

Loki kissed the weaponsmith again, unable to resist the temptation that Anthony provided. His eyes fluttered closed as Anthony’s mouth opened for him. He had intended on the kiss being something slow, something gently to enjoy, but Anthony cupped the back of Loki’s neck and the kiss became more intense. Anthony’s tongue curled around his own as the forgemaster slotted his hips against Loki’s, rocking their arousals together until Loki was forced to break away with a gasp.

Anthony’s smile had grown larger, but it didn’t lose it’s almost... _soft_ edge. Loki knew it was his own wishful thinking, but it made his heart tighten at seeing something so close to affection on the other man’s face. 

_Enjoy it for tonight_ , the prince’s mind whispered, and Loki swallowed before pulling away and glancing to the side. “Do you keep oil here?”

“I do,” Anthony confirmed before shifting out from underneath the mage’s. The weaponsmith had a small table with drawers by his bed, and he leant towards it, pulling it open before plucking out the vial. Anthony shut the drawer again before turning back around and proffering the item.

Their fingers brushed when Loki took it, but Anthony didn’t let him move away; the forgemaster grabbed Loki’s wrist and tugged the mage into his personal space. Loki ended up crouched over Anthony, their mouths inches apart. Anthony’s thumb started rubbing against Loki’s inner wrist as he gently asked, “How shall I lay, my Prince?”

Loki’s gaze fell to Anthony’s mouth, and he watched as Anthony’s tongue darted out to brush over it. 

“On your back, Anthony,” Loki said a little hoarsely, “with me over you.”

**Anthony’s eyes darkened and, when he tugged Loki down for another kiss, he made a hum of pleased agreement. The weaponsmith also moved easily with little prompting to lie down on his back once more. Loki broke the kiss and, while he was tempted to trail his mouth down Anthony’s body, he refrained - far too aware of how unnecessarily affectionate it would be

Loki did shift down, causing Anthony to let go of him as he moved. The prince ended up crouched between Anthony’s legs, looking at the other man’s erection, hard and curved towards Anthony’s stomach. Loki’s own arousal throbbed at the sight Anthony made. The mage opened up the vial, forcibly dragging his eyes away from the image before him until he could focus enough to pour a little on his fingers.

Loki didn’t move directly to Anthony’s entrance; he reached out and took Anthony’s cock instead, stroking it firmly and making Anthony jerk his hips upward as he moaned Loki’s name. The weaponsmith’s fingers curled into the bedding and his eyes squeezed shut. He was a _vision_ , and Loki swallowed thickly at seeing it.

He ran his thumb over the tip of Anthony’s erection, feeling the smear of precum - unable to help himself in imagining how Anthony took care of his arousal while lying alone in his bed. Did he spread himself? Did he take his time and tease himself? Loki wanted to ask, but he knew better than to do it. The prince’s voice would easily give away the extent of his desires, especially if he was reckless enough to ask: _Do you think of me?_ Loki pretended that Anthony did and told himself that imagining it was enough.

Giving Anthony one final stroke, Loki let the other’s erection go, watching as it stood, proud and straining for another touch. He smirked a little before placing more oil on his fingers and rearranging himself. He touched Anthony’s thigh, urging him to lift his leg and rest it on Loki’s shoulder. Anthony didn’t hesitate and placed both of them there, his calves resting over Loki’s back; it put Anthony at the perfect angle for Loki to spread him with his fingers. It also put Loki’s mouth close to Anthony’s erection, and he almost chuckled at the way it twitched at the feel of the prince’s breath passing over it. 

He ignored it, though, to press his fingers to Anthony entrance. He heard Anthony let out a soft sigh when he worked the first finger inside, relaxing against the prince’s touch and making small, encouraging noises as Loki began to stretch the other man in earnest.

The second finger gained slight resistance but, familiar with Anthony and what he could handle, Loki began to lightly stretch him. His free hand had been resting on Anthony’s hip, but the prince brought it to Anthony’s cock, lightly running his fingers over it before taking a loose grip and teasingly stroking him.

Anthony groaned and his thighs and legs tensed as he tried to arch into Loki’s fist. It made Loki smile before he turned his head without thinking and placed his mouth to Anthony’s inner thigh. He felt Anthony go tense for a second, making Loki freeze, before he went boneless and let out a soft sigh.

Loki, unable to help himself, latched onto the sensitive skin, sucking a small mark and making Anthony jerk at the feeling, groaning lightly when Loki finally let his skin go.

Anthony’s erection was hard and weeping from the tip but Loki let go, putting his hand back to Anthony’s hip and beginning to spread him more intently. Loki had three fingers inside Anthony when he pressed and curled them in a way he knew Anthony would enjoy. The prince wasn’t disappointed. Anthony let out a harsh shout and arched into the touch as Loki rubbed against his prostate, sending pleasure through Anthony’s limbs.

The mage pulled his fingers back briefly, concentrating on a little further stretch; when Anthony’s breathing had calmed down, he pressed up one more time, rubbing the same spot and making Anthony moan the mage’s name roughly before Loki pulled his fingers free.

His own cock was hard and aching. Loki had ignored it for the sake of watching and feeling Anthony’s pleasure - but knowing the other man was ready, Loki removed Anthony’s legs from his shoulders. Anthony was lying flat on the bed. His eyes were half-lidded, his lips red and swollen from being kissed and bitten. Loki looked at him for the longest moment, just enjoying the view before he dragged his attention back to the oil. He placed some on his hand, Loki then stroked his erection, shuddering at the feeling of oil-slick fingers sliding over sensitive skin. He didn’t even swipe the head, far too sensitive and aroused to dare it.

When Loki positioned himself between Anthony’s legs, Anthony didn’t even need to be asked: he brought his legs to hook around Loki’s waist, helping to prepare himself for Loki to take. The groan Loki let out at the weight and feel of Anthony felt like it was going to break through the mage’s chest.

It was all Loki could do to keep his touch firm as he spread Anthony with one hand and guided himself inside with the other.

They both let out satisfied moans as Loki slid inside; Anthony even used his legs to drag Loki closer until the prince was fully sheathed within the other man, and Loki braced his hands against the bedding as they both panted at the feeling.

“Norns, _Loki_ ,” Anthony gasped, clenching and squirming around the taller Aesir in a way that made it impossible for Loki to keep his hips from twitching and thrusting deeper still. 

It was instinctive after that to draw himself out before thrusting back inside. Anthony arched his head back while his hands came up to grip Loki’s shoulders. The weaponsmith whined slightly when he couldn’t get the right hold and, before Loki could think about it, he was shifting his position and Anthony was accommodating him with ease and only a few soft, guiding touches from the prince It ended with them closer than before, with Loki back to caging Anthony with his body. The mage pushed back inside Anthony, feeling Anthony’s nails rake down his back as the forgemaster wrapped his legs back around Loki’s hips and thrust back against each roll of the prince’s hips.

The feeling was incredible and _intimate_ , and Loki had to bury his face in Anthony’s neck to keep from kissing the other man. The prince felt like he was drowning in the sensation. It didn’t feel like he was simply laying casually with Anthony - Norns, it felt like Loki was with a _lover_. Anthony’s gasps were pressed right against his ear, his arms were holding Loki close as his ankles drove Loki on to thrust longer, faster, _deeper_.

Anthony was groaning broken words and whispers of Loki’s name. Gasping _more_ and _please_ and _Loki_ and whining when Loki refused to go any faster.

Norns, Loki just wanted to _savour_ it. The slow drag and the pleasure he felt at pushing into the warm heat of Anthony and pulling out until only the tip of his cock was still buried within the other man’s fluttering rim. The way Anthony would shout and dig his nails into Loki’s back whenever Loki deliberately pushed in deep and hit Anthony’s prostate. The way Anthony’s skin tasted when the prince pressed his mouth to Anthony’s neck, feeling the weaponsmith’s pulse race and the vibrations of his moans. 

The mage could feel Anthony’s cock as it rubbed against their stomachs, hard and leaking and desperate for Loki to take it in his hand. It was intoxicating: the way that Anthony sometimes clenched around the prince, trying to make him react, or the way he’d use the strength of his legs to make Loki thrust deeper into him - the way Anthony laughed slightly when he succeeded only to continue to hold him like a _lover_.

It was an exhilarating mix of sensation and emotions, and Loki never wanted it to end.

He tried to draw it out for as long as he could, but the sounds Anthony was making, the feel of him - it wasn’t long until Loki was unable to withstand the slow pace. He increased his rhythm, angling to brush Anthony’s prostate with each thrust. It made Anthony groan and chant his name in response, and Loki shifted enough to get his hand between them, grasping Anthony’s erection and making the weaponsmith gasp and dig his nails deeply into Loki’s back.

Loki adored the sting of pain and the loss of Anthony’s control. He tore his face away from Anthony’s neck to be able to see his face as the other Aesir came; Loki wanted to see it just once.

Anthony’s eyes were squeeze shut, his mouth caught on a gasp. There was nothing but pleasure written in his features, and Loki made sure to aim every thrust perfectly - to stroke Anthony fast and firm, squeezing and rubbing the tip of the other man’s erection with his thumb as he did.

The prince could see Anthony was on the very edge: his limbs trembling as he tried to get Loki to thrust even deeper into him. Anthony was on the very peak of his orgasm, and Loki didn’t know what made him do it, but he found himself demanding - his voice rough and tainted with his own approaching release - in a firm command: “Come _now_ , Anthony.”

Anthony went tense against the prince, his body arching and his mouth parting on a soundless cry before he came against Loki’s hand. The abrupt tightening of the other man’s muscles and the sheer sight of Anthony so lost to pleasure quickly saw Loki thrusting deeply only a few more times before his own orgasm whipped through him. He’d needed to bow his head as he shuddered through his release, biting his bottom lip to keep silent as the mage jerked through the last of it.

When Loki finally stilled, shivering slightly, he tilted his head to look at Anthony. The weaponsmith’s eyes were half-lidded and he lay loose and content below Loki. Instinctively, Loki went to move forward, to kiss Anthony and curl around his lover - but the moment he realised what he was doing, the prince flinched back. Loki had barely made it more than an inch closer, but he was furious at himself for even contemplating the idea.

Loki quickly turned his attention to slipping free from Anthony and untangling the other man’s legs from around his waist. **When they were apart, Loki summoned the usual bowl of warm water and cloth to rest beside him. Anthony laid, content and pliant, as Loki lifted one of his legs and began to clean him. The weaponsmith was even humming softly - a gentle, pleased noise at what Loki was doing. It made Loki close his eyes as, no matter how much he tried to stop it, Loki could feel the ache filling him at what he needed to do.

It didn’t take the mage long to finish and, when he sent the items away, Loki couldn’t resist letting his hand trail over Anthony’s calf softly as he moved it to rest back on the bed. 

Letting out a heavy breath, Loki pushed off the bed without looking at Anthony. He began picking up his clothes from the floor, pulling them on without magic, if only to avoid giving Anthony up for a little while longer.

The mage heard the sound of movement on the bed behind him and tensed slightly, even as he finished pulling on his pants. “I thought, Loki--”

Loki interrupted Anthony before he could continue. Loki couldn’t bear to hear another suggested deal or some casual remark about seeing him in the workshop tomorrow. It would be the complete opposite of Loki what wanted their nights to mean - what the prince _wanted_ Anthony to mean to him. He couldn’t take it.

“We won’t be doing this again.”

Silence followed the prince’s announcement, and Loki was glad his back was turned to Anthony so he wouldn’t have to see the other Aesir’s face. He was glad that Anthony couldn’t see _his_. Loki was certain his expression wasn’t as schooled as he wanted it to be. He hid it even further by pulling his tunic over his head.

“What?” Anthony finally asked, his voice quiet and blank.

Loki took in a careful breath, making certain his face was emotionless before turning to look at the other. Anthony was sitting up, still unclothed and still littered in small marks from Loki’s mouth, but his eyes were narrowed and his expression bewildered. Loki resisted the urge to swallow or clench his fists. He needed to be impassive, impersonal, uncompromising. He needed to look as if he didn’t care. Anthony _couldn’t_ know how much he cared.

“I’m ceasing our arrangement,” Loki told him simply, “and I will also be ceasing our association.”

Anthony flinched, looking as if he’d been slapped. “You... _what?_ ”

Loki glanced down at the cuffs of his sleeves, fixing them if only to have something to do with his hands and a reason to avert his eyes away from the Aesir still lying in his bed. 

“Our friendship was a part of our arrangement, and I no longer wish for either it or the deals we exchanged.” The words felt hollow as they left his mouth. Loki felt as if they were coming from a distance. Blood was also rushing through his ears, and Loki’s stomach was twisted in enough knots to make him feel nauseated. “You may continue to use the library and associate with Thor, but I will no longer be spending-”

Loki was interrupted by the sound of Anthony moving and, when he looked up again, Anthony was standing directly in front of him. He seemed completely thrown, staring at Loki with eyes filled with confusion. “I don’t understand. What are you doing?” 

“I’m ending our arrangement.”

“But... _why?_ ” Anthony demanded. “What change-” His eyes filled with sudden realisation and, for a moment, Loki felt his heart freeze as terror gripped it. _Does he...?_ “Is this because I sent a note when you were with the ambassadors?” Loki felt pure relief at Anthony’s misunderstanding. “You could have ignored it - you could have said _no_.” The weaponsmith even reached for Loki, gripping the taller Aesir’s arm as if trying to make him remain. Anthony was searching Loki’s gaze, trying to find something, and Loki was worried he would find exactly the wrong thing. “I made sure you got your side of the deal. I made sure-”

Loki yanked his arm away, and his pain and heartache coalesced into exactly the wrong emotion. Loki used the single defence he had left when he was stung and wounded and couldn’t let anybody see it. He turned to the one thing he’d never used on Anthony, but it was so much easier than the alternative - of letting Anthony see what he _did_ feel.

Loki turned to spitted words and pure malice.

“Did you think that I would continue this arrangement with you forever?” he snapped, and the prince’s tone made Anthony jerk back slightly; it also made Anthony finally let him go. Loki just continued to glare at him, to project a disgust he didn’t feel for anyone but himself. “Did you think I would not grow bored with you? You, a lowly weaponsmith.” 

Hurt flashed through Anthony’s eyes for all of a second before something hard slammed down across his face: Anthony’s own mask and armour. It was the one that Loki hadn’t seen since the first night of their deal.

“Is that all I was to you, Prince? A convenient body to have in exchange for a few simple items?” Anthony laughed darkly and briefly glanced away. When he looked back once more, Anthony seemed even more furious and bitter. “But it seems I have lost my appeal now that you have spent time with me. I am surprised that you would throw me away so easily - surely even _you_ enjoyed having people believe that you could have yourself a _friend_.”

Loki did his best not to show how much those words cut into him. “You were an amusement. Now you are not.”

“The mercurial Prince,” Anthony spat. “And I began to believe there was more to him.” He looked disgusted, furious, _hateful_. “But no. It is the God of _Lies_ you have turned out to be.” The weaponsmith sneered at him. “Perhaps I should have known better, _chosen_ better, like others have said. Perhaps I _will_ give my time to a more genuine Prince. Perhaps it is time I give my companionship to Prince _Thor_.”

The pain of that remark struck Loki like a blow, hitting deep enough to shake his core. He felt genuine fury, a genuine need to lash out at Anthony and _hurt_ him the way that Loki had been hurt. The prince knew it was his own fault and that he’d caused Anthony to say such things to him, but it didn’t stop the way he felt something inside him break at seeing the man he adored reject him and look at him with such despising eyes. 

_You have nothing to tempt Thor with. You only tempted me because I was bored and wished to bed a useless commoner._ The words were on Loki’s tongue, ready to be hurled at Anthony, but he found he... couldn’t. The thought of inflicting more dishonest words on Anthony, only to see more hurt flash across the other’s face - it sucked the last of Loki’s strength.

He couldn’t do it. 

So he said nothing.

Loki held Anthony’s furious eyes for a long moment before using magic to disappear from the weaponsmith’s home, taking with it his remaining clothes and all the items he’d ever placed in Anthony’s workshop.

The mage’s books landed with a thump at his feet as he appeared inside his chambers; the moment he was there, Loki let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes. The only thing he saw was Anthony’s face turn from confusion to hurt to bitter disgust. 

That look made Loki feel like he had been through a battle - one that had torn his heart to pieces.

 _I lied_ , Loki’s mind whispered, wishing to say it to Anthony. _You are the dearest thing in the world to me, and I would never grow tired of you._

The prince had told himself for days that this would be the better option, the less painful path to take; however, standing in his chambers and knowing Anthony now truly believed his callous reputation, Loki could only call himself a twice damned fool. He hadn’t just given up Anthony for tonight; the mage had lost him and his friendship forever.

Loki could feel the pits of misery, self-loathing, and heartache pulling at him, and the prince didn’t do anything else but surrender to it. 

It was exactly what he deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd, this was kind of what I was warning about two chapters ago. The beta commentary from rightsidethru was kind of hilarious on this, the following is a tally of how many times she used a word in reference to Loki:
> 
> 4 idiots  
> 16 smothers*  
> 1 stab  
> 2 throttles  
> 8 morons
> 
> *Throughout the story she's wanted to smother Loki with a pillow for when he's being too stupid - in this chapter he got a lot of that XDDD


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. I hope you're ready for this. The second last chapter! :O
> 
> Let's see what emotional mess these boys have in store for you ;P

Loki didn’t feel any better in the days that followed; in fact, he felt worse.

Ending things didn’t make Loki think about Anthony any less; rather, it made the prince think about Anthony _more_. Loki’s thoughts simply brought with them a newer, sharper hurt that he couldn’t shake no matter how much he tried. He attempted to lose himself in magic or his duties - but none of it helped.

People had also began to talk about the unexpected distance between the mage and the weaponsmith.

It took the populace three days to realise at least some of what had occurred - and most of that awareness was due to the mage’s brother. Loud and oblivious to the people around them, Thor had cornered Loki one morning and asked him why he wasn’t spending time with Anthony anymore. Thor had been by Anthony’s workshop earlier that day, searching for Loki and had been told that they were no longer communicating. Thor had been confused by Anthony’s remark and had started asking Loki questions that Loki hadn’t wanted to hear. The older prince also began postulating theories about what had happened - things that made servants and guards alike listen with attentive, curious ears.

During the pseudo-interrogation, all Loki had been able to picture was Anthony befriending Thor, imagining how the weaponsmith would disregard Loki easily and spend his free time with Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three instead. The mage had a brief flash of imagining Anthony taking _Sif_ to his bed, and it had made Loki feel such rage and envy that he’d snapped something scathing at Thor and left in a swirl of magic. Loki’s heart had pulled at him, begging him to use magic to check on Anthony, to see what he was doing - _who_ the weaponsmith was with - but Loki forced himself to ignore it and do nothing. 

Unfortunately, his reaction to Thor had meant that it didn’t take long for the rumours about him and Anthony to start.

The general consensus was that Anthony had finally learnt better than to socialise with Loki and had cut all ties with the dark and deceitful Prince. A few others argued that Anthony had done something to offend or anger Loki and would soon be the subject of a horrific revenge. It didn’t matter which side the gossipers subscribed to, though: they all still gave their sympathy to Anthony. 

Loki supposed he should be happy that Anthony’s flourishing reputation wouldn’t suffer from the end of their association, but he found it difficult. While Anthony deserved all the praise bestowed on him for his craft, Loki found himself missing the way he would watch Anthony light up at finishing a new piece. The way the forgemaster would mutter to himself across the workshop or complain about the ridiculous order some new dignitary had given him - telling Loki how they ‘ _know nothing about metalwork; it isn’t even possible, Loki. Norns, why did I say I would attempt this?_ ’

How, despite his words and sometimes through Loki’s help, Anthony would create whole new ways to forge weapons for his customers. It pained Loki to wonder what Anthony was up to now--if he missed Loki even slightly. The prince simply tried to ignore his desperate longing as best he could.

Thor, at least, had left the subject alone since Loki’s abrupt departure; their mother, however, was a different story entirely.

Frigga watched her youngest son with concerned eyes: a look that made Loki’s skin crawl and his heart feel as wretched as ever. He managed to avoid her for the first few days but, when she requested a private lunch with him, Loki was hardly surprised. He still stared at the invitation for the better part of an hour, knowing exactly what he would be in for if he accepted. The mage also knew that to refuse Frigga wouldn’t stop her - it would just make her worry double and add further guilt onto Loki’s shoulders.

The youngest prince had accepted in the end and joined his mother in her chambers. Frigga had been happy to see him, giving Loki a warm hug that he’d all but melted into. She’d had them sit close together as she asked after his magic, his studies--all neutral topics. The mage had responded in kind, enquiring about her gardens and catching up on the small, irrelevant nuances that filled the days since they’d last seen each other.

Loki had tried not to stiffen every time his mother broached a new subject, worried it would be the one he dreaded - but he doubted he was very successful. Frigga didn’t comment on his reaction, though, and their light conversation remained throughout the meal. When they eventually finished eating and the servants had cleared the table and been dismissed, things faded into a weighted silence. 

Frigga was sipping from her drink, watching Loki silently but with an air of expectation. She was patiently waiting for him to start speaking about the true reason he had been asked to come here. Loki took a sip from his own goblet and looked away from his mother’s expectant gaze, refusing to be the one to bring up Anthony. 

Unfortunately, Frigga was more than willing to accept the task of doing so herself. “I notice you have been spending little time with Anthony recently.”

It was an open enough statement, but Loki decided not to avoid it. What would it achieve him in the end? The prince kept his voice firm and his eyes on his goblet as he told her, “We have decided to cease our friendship.”

“Oh, Loki...” Frigga murmured instantly, her voice soft and her hand coming to rest on his arm in comfort and support. “What happened?”

“It was a mutual decision,” Loki told her, his voice coming out rougher and more defensive than he intended; his next words almost a snap. “I do not need your pity.”

Frigga ignored the harshness of his words and the way he refused to look at her. She persisted with a gentle voice and concerned tone: “You were closer to him than any other I have seen you associate with. You-”

“It is _done_ , Mother,” Loki told her, finally looking at her and glaring, hoping to hide everything he was feeling and keeping Frigga from seeing the truth behind his lies. “My friendship with him has ended.”

The queen was silent for a long moment, eyeing him shrewdly before she asked him bluntly, “Was it only friendship that existed between you?”

His eyes widened. “I don’t-”

“You looked at him with naked affection, my dear,” Frigga told him gently, a sad smile on her lips. “You looked at Anthony as if he held your very heart.”

Loki felt trapped: caught between his mother’s soft, questioning gaze and the way he wanted to stop everything from coming to light. He wanted to deny it - deny how he felt and what he wanted from Anthony. Why the very thought of no longer having the other man made a part of Loki want to shatter.

“You love him; don’t you, Loki?”

Loki froze - but one look in the queen’s eyes, one sharp, agonising pain to his heart, and Loki deflated. There was no other word. He slumped back against the chair and closed his eyes, giving only the faintest, weariest nod in acknowledgment to his mother’s words. The trickster couldn’t bring himself to hide it from her, not when she had been the one person he could always tell his secrets to. 

And why did it matter if someone knew now? His days with Anthony were over. His _chances_ with Anthony had never existed, and Loki had already destroyed what little they did have. There was nothing left but the misery he’d brought upon himself and the guilt over the words he’d spat at Anthony. Loki had chosen to suffer this, to bear the weight of the loss rather than the constant, pained suffering of having pieces of the other man that never equalled _enough_.

He knew this wrenching pain would fade - that it would become little more than a continuous ache with time. Loki just had to endure the sudden, gaping loss he felt and the knowledge that he had no one to blame for it but himself.

“Oh, Loki,” his mother whispered, squeezing his arm gently and giving him the comfort she always offered: the comfort he didn’t deserve but desperately needed. “How long have you cared for him?”

Loki let out a harsh laugh before admitting quietly, “Since the start.” 

The prince opened his eyes but didn’t see the room; all he could see was the very beginning of it all: Anthony’s shock at his appearance in the workshop, his suspicion and surprise at the mage’s offer. He could remember the evening that followed it so clearly. 

“I approached him first,” Loki continued wretchedly. “I knew I could never tell him, knew that I could never have what I wanted, but I... I encouraged something between us - only to realise...”

“Realise what?” the queen prompted, and he finally looked at her, sorrow etched on his face.

“I could never keep his friendship, not when I needed something more from him.”

Understanding filled Frigga’s eyes; she knew him far too well, after all - but instead of an accusation, her voice remained gentle and encouraging, “What did you say to him?”

Loki smiled thinly. “Whatever I needed to.”

The sigh she let out was sad and disappointed, and it made Loki want to flinch. “And what if he was growing to care for you the way you wished?”

“He wasn’t,” Loki denied flatly.

“Loki-”

“He _wasn’t_ ,” the prince snapped, glaring at his mother. “Do you think I didn’t search for the mere _hint_ of reciprocation? That I didn’t hope that he would grow to want more than-” Loki cut himself off abruptly and glanced away, remembering all the glimmers of false hope he’d seen in Anthony’s smile when they’d been together. He ground his teeth before making himself admit: “I was his friend. When I knew, without doubt, that I could not be more to him, I salvaged what I could of my pride and my heart and left him to seek other friendships.”

Frigga was silent for a long moment, her hand a soft, comforting weight on his arm. “And what if he had hidden it? You are perceptive, Loki, but not even you can be so certain of another’s heart.” Loki scoffed, but Frigga wouldn’t give up the train of thought. “You did not witness what I saw in the moments that you were alone with him. When something made you glance away but he kept his eyes focused on you.”

 _Friendly affection_ , Loki thought numbly, _physical attraction and desire_. They were the things that Anthony felt for him and that fitted the parameters of their deal. Loki could admit a lot to his mother, things that he wouldn’t tell another soul, but he couldn’t bring himself to explain their arrangement and why what Frigga had seen didn’t mean... anything.

Her misconception was that Loki wasn’t already well-aware that Anthony found him attractive - that it hadn’t been part of the problem.

“It isn’t what you think, Mother,” Loki told her, dropping his gaze to his goblet. “I assure you of that.”

The queen didn’t respond immediately and, while a large part of him didn’t want to, he still found himself looking back at her. The expression on her face said that she didn’t believe him but, instead of persisting, she changed tactics: “Do you believe he knew how you felt?”

Loki let out a bitter snort. “I made certain that he would not.”

“And you did this because you believed he wouldn’t return your affections?” Loki gave a faint shrug in acknowledgement, which only caused Frigga to sigh at him. “Then why couldn’t Anthony have done the same thing with his feelings for you?”

“Because he doesn’t have them.”

“Loki-”

“He _doesn’t_ ,” Loki hissed and he couldn’t stop the way that pain coated his words. He brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to ward of the emotions or at least mask them from his face and voice. “He is - _was_ my friend and there was nothing further to his affections. Attraction to me, yes - that, at least, I knew; anything further than that was something I could not strive for, so I _removed the temptation_.”

It was a selfish action and he knew it. Loki had destroyed a friendship he had come to cherish before it could destroy him. He’d _hurt_ Anthony in the process and lied about how much Anthony had meant to him. The prince regretted that, but Loki knew it couldn’t have ended any other way. How else would Anthony have let him leave without stubbornly searching out a cause and a reason for the mage’s abrupt departure?

No, they were far too alike in that.

“Do you believe he cherished your friendship?” Frigga asked her son softly, and Loki jerked his attention to her. “I know you and your temper, Loki. Your words are especially wounding when you choose them with particular malice.” 

Loki flinched slightly, guilt scratching at him. His mother knew her son’s anger first hand. He’d spat things at her when he was younger and furious at her coddling him. He’d been denying his magic, trying to fit in, trying to be _liked_ , and she had been telling him truths he hadn’t wanted to hear. Loki had been forced to learn the benefit of her words over the years - but seeing her crestfallen expression then had still haunted him for days until he’d finally apologised.

Anthony was the only other person who Loki so desperately regretted hurting.

“I worry,” the queen continued quietly, “that in your haste to save yourself, you’ve done more damage to Anthony than you realise.”

Loki shot her a sharp look. “His reputation has not suffered.” He gritted his teeth suddenly, furious at himself for not thinking of it sooner. “Mother, I ask that you not revoke his invitations to the court merely because-”

“I won’t, Loki,” his mother told him firmly. “But I didn’t mean his standing amongst the Aesir being injured; I meant what he would feel at being told that a friendship he prized meant very little to _you_.”

Loki felt the remarks hit him as if a physical blow had been struck. He couldn’t deny her words - not when Loki had _known_ that Anthony considered them to be friends. It wasn’t just the forgemaster’s words - _a versatile and beneficial friendship. I cannot imagine a better thing to be sharing with you, my Prince_ \- it was Anthony’s actions, his smiles, and his laughter.

Loki knew how much it would have hurt _him_ had the situation been reversed. The prince would have felt gutted. 

But - no, there was a difference.

“He has more friends than I do, Mother.” Loki’s eyes had fallen to his pants, and he found his fingers playing with the material absently. “He will not mourn the loss of me for long.”

“Are you so sure?”

Loki flicked his eyes to Frigga but had to look away soon enough. The mage also couldn’t find it in himself to answer and that more than said enough. Loki knew he’d hurt Anthony far more than he’d intended, but Loki had been trying to ignore it, to bury it - forgotten, under his own misery.

“I won’t tell you to mend the rift between you,” Frigga said gently, bringing her hand to rest over his own again. “But I will suggest that speaking to him might ease some of your pain - and his.”

Loki didn’t shrug off his mother’s touch, although he was tempted to do so. He also didn’t agree to follow her advice, not when the thought of seeing Anthony again both twisted his stomach and sunk his heart. Loki knew what he would see: anger, betrayal, disgust.

Anthony did deserve better than to be lied to - but Loki had been lying to him from the start. Frigga didn’t understand everything that had happened between them, everything the prince had _done_. She wanted to see Loki happy; she wanted to see Loki and Anthony as _friends_ or _lovers_ or something equally impossible.

Loki just wanted his heart to stop aching. He wanted to stop seeing the look on Anthony’s face when Loki had told him that everything between them meant nothing. Loki just wanted to stop being in love.

* * *

Loki left Frigga’s chambers not long after their conversation about Anthony and, while he tried to forget about her words over the coming days, they remained impossible to shake free from. His _guilt_ remained impossible to shake. Loki knew that Anthony might have already recovered from the abrupt end of their friendship. The prince knew that Anthony would be fine and unconcerned about Loki’s words - but the mage’s conscience and his heart weren’t letting him be content with that.

He’d destroyed their friendship for a reason. Loki had given in to the selfish need to protect his heart from a friendship and a deal that would only end up breaking it. Loki had known it would hurt - that giving Anthony up would be painful. Loki just hadn’t stopped to think of what his actions and words might have done to _Anthony_ , not until Frigga had forced him to reflect on it.

The thought that Loki could be the cause of Anthony’s continued unhappiness ate at him. 

Where he had previously ignored the gossip surrounding what had happened, Loki now actively searched for it. The mage was hoping for proof that Anthony had recovered, but what he found was the opposite of reassuring.

Anthony was reported to be quick to anger and unwilling to be drawn into conversation even by his oldest of friends. The weaponsmith remained in his workshop but was more inclined to shut the door to dissuade people from interrupting him. He was _secluding_ himself, and Loki understood that reaction all too well. He’d done it himself, when he was raw and pained.

Loki still couldn’t be sure he was the cause, and he was still debating doing anything. Yet his mother’s words cycled relentlessly through his mind: _speaking to him might ease some of your pain - and his._

The restless thoughts found Loki taking long walks at night, cloaked by magic and free from disruption. It also had Loki lingering near Anthony’s workshop, watching the light escape from the cracks of closed doors and windows. He couldn’t see Anthony, but he could hear the faint sound of hammer on metal as the mage watched from the shadows.

Loki found his feet taking him to the forge for four consecutive nights. 

He stood there and thought about the evenings he’d spent with Anthony and about the long, endless days he’d spent in the other’s company. Loki thought about the pain on Anthony’s face during their last night together and how much utterly he missed the other man.

It had been painful to want Anthony from afar before they began their deal; it had then been a sharp sting to possess only parts of the weaponsmith once their friendship had formed, but Loki had now discovered it was even more agonising to know what he’d had and what he’d willingly lost.

Loki didn’t know what he wanted anymore - what would hurt him less. He doubted he had much of a chance for anything after the way he’d acted and the things he’d said – but, on the fourth night of staring at Anthony’s workshop and wishing he could take everything back, the prince found his feet carrying him the last steps needed to reach Anthony’s door.

The mage hesitated with his hand over the wood before closing his eyes for a moment to grasp the handle and pull. The door was unlocked, like Loki expected, and the light from the workshop poured over him. Loki’s heart raced but, while it took only a moment for his eyes to adjust from the darkness he’d come from, Anthony wasn’t present in the main room.

Loki knew Anthony wouldn’t be far - not if the forgemaster had left the door unlocked--so he stepped in quickly. His eyes scanned the workshop, quickly latching onto his former desk. Where every other surface was covered in piling items, the mage’s desk remained completely empty. It made Loki’s heart twist in a way that almost hurt - but before he could quantify it further, he heard footsteps approaching. Loki shut the door the last of the way, almost pressing himself against it in support by the time that Anthony stepped back into the room.

The weaponsmith had a cloth in his hands and looked as if he’d been wiping himself down. Loki knew it was part of the other’s evening routine. Anthony had likely been finishing for the day, only coming back to the workshop to bolt the door and turn out the lights.

The moment Anthony saw Loki, though, he froze, shock flickering through his eyes before something cold and hard took its place. “Prince Loki.”

“Anthony,” the mage greeted, not even sure where else to start. 

Loki hadn’t planned this, he hadn’t _arranged_ this - he’d just been incapable of staying away any longer. Loki didn’t even know how he’d be able to leave again, not when Anthony looked as gorgeous and perfect as ever--when being in this workshop reminded Loki of everything he’d shared with Anthony: the way Anthony had kissed him, the feel of the other’s skin underneath Loki’s palms, Anthony’s smiles and laughter as he teased Loki, and his cracked moans of pleasure when Loki was inside of him.

But that wasn’t all they had shared.

_Anthony’s mouth on him when Loki would have done anything to help Anthony, never expecting payment in return._

No, Loki had broken their arrangement and given up their friendship for a reason. _Because you’ll never have what you truly want--only an illusion of it._

“My workshop is closed,” Anthony announced abruptly, his words curt. “You will need to order a commission another day.”

Loki swallowed thickly. “I did not come for a commission.” 

Anthony’s mouth pulled upwards into a twisted, nasty smirk of bitter amusement. “Then what did you come for, _Prince?_ ”

Loki didn’t let himself react to the sneer or the removal of his name from the title. He kept his eyes on Anthony’s and his resolve determined as he told the other, “I came to apologise.”

His words were greeted with a bark of rough laughter and Anthony stepping forward. “Apologise? For what?” Anthony wiped his hands almost violently before throwing the cloth onto one of the benches. He didn’t come any closer to Loki, but he didn’t look away from the mage, either. “For deciding I was no longer _interesting_ enough to maintain our deal? For telling me, a _lowly weaponsmith_ , that a friendship with you was nothing more than a _lie?_ ”

“I didn’t mean-”

“What?” Anthony demanded, finally closing the last of the distance, looking furious and unwavering in his anger. “What did you not _mean_ to do, Prince? I find it difficult to believe that you of all people did not know _exactly_ what words you were speaking.”

“I-”

“And why have you returned, Prince? Did you discover that the best _option_ before you continued to be a lowly commoner? Did it _exasperate_ you that people didn’t let our friendship cease without questioning it? Prince _Thor_ even wonders why you gave me up - as if it is some great mystery that you would see me as anything other than _beneath_ you.”

It was a mistake. Loki knew it was the wrong thing to do the moment it happened, but Anthony’s wording made his eyes flick down instinctively. Anthony caught the longing he couldn’t contain – the longing for more than a touch or for friendship... but for love – but Anthony saw the appraisal and his face shifted into something unreadable. The weaponsmith’s mouth was a thin line as he stared at Loki.

When the shorter Aesir spoke again, his words surprised Loki. “Ward my workshop.”

Loki blinked. “I... pardon?”

Anthony just stepped closer, their bodies almost touching. “You came here to solve a problem, and I’m giving you one: ward my workshop; _protect_ it.”

“Anthony-”

“No!” Anthony practically growled and, this time, he _did_ get in Loki’s space. He placed his arms on either side of Loki’s body, pressing him into the door and sliding one leg between the mage’s. “You come to my workshop after saying I mean _nothing_ to you. Well, you mean nothing to me other than getting what I desire. I desire a ward, and you may deny it, but you, Prince Loki, desire my _body_.”

The forgemaster didn’t let Loki speak as he pushed up and caught Loki’s mouth in a kiss. It was hard and rough and Anthony even bit the prince’s lip almost hard enough to bleed. It made Loki gasp before Anthony’s tongue was slipping inside his mouth to slide against his own.

Loki’s hands came up to Anthony’s hair before he could stop himself, dragging the weaponsmith closer and kissing him back, unable to stop the arousal, the want, the _need_ to keep the other man against him. He also couldn’t stop the burning self-hatred and the anger at himself, as well as the chance to pour those emotions into the other man’s embrace. The kiss was a battle with Anthony refusing to back down or be dominated, and it made Loki’s blood rush south and his cock harden.

When their mouths finally broke apart, it was because of Anthony wrenching his lips away. He was gasping slightly before he demanded, voice rough: “Ward my workshop. Let me know who enters and who leaves. Let me _keep people away_ if I do not want them here.”

Loki nodded frantically and promised, “Done.”

Anthony just kissed him again and Loki lost himself in the sensation of it. He forgot everything - _ignored_ anything that wasn’t the man in front of him. Anthony’s hands were under the mage’s shirt, scraping at his skin as he ground their hips together. It was _nothing_ like what they shared before, and Loki let his hands run over Anthony, remembering the feel of him and devouring every moment he had.

He knew it was wrong - that it was a mistake - but Loki couldn’t stop himself from wanting it.

When the kiss ended, Anthony ordered: “Take us to my room - _teleport_ us there.”

The forgemaster followed his words up by moving his mouth to Loki’s neck. He sucked at the skin harshly, scraping his teeth and nipping enough to make Loki jerk against the shorter man and bite down on a groan. The mage turned his neck into the feeling even while using his magic to do as requested and bring them to Anthony’s room.

It was the work of moments, but Anthony barely pulled away. He only took enough time to grab Loki’s shirt and drag it off him. He barely gave Loki the time to lift his arms and, the moment it cleared him and was tossed on the floor, Anthony’s mouth was back on his own. Anthony brought a hand to the back of Loki’s neck, dragging him down and making him curve down into the kiss.

The force, the _demands_ , was exhilarating: they were what Anthony _wanted_ and Loki found himself giving in, allowing Anthony to pull and push him towards the bed. He grabbed for Anthony’s tunic, but Anthony pulled away from him, stepping back and causing Loki to grip his hips just to try and keep the weaponsmith close. Anthony let him keep the hold with a small, sharp twitch to his mouth that Loki couldn’t quantify. The forgemaster then took his shirt and pulled it over his head, ruffling his already messy locks - but Anthony didn’t seem to notice.

The shorter man tossed his clothing to the ground before looking back at Loki. His lips were red from their kissing while his arousal was beginning to strain against his pants. Loki wanted to drag him closer, to mouth at Anthony’s collarbones and thumb at his hardened nipples - but Anthony moved first, his lips brushing over Loki’s cheek before moving to his ear. 

“Get rid of our clothes.” Anthony’s voice was a low rumble, and Loki barely resisted shivering before his magic was running over them, leaving them naked and almost near enough that their arousals could rub together.

Anthony’s mouth moved back to the prince’s, kissing him with passion and heat. Their tongues fought as Anthony’s hand slipped into the mage’s hair, gripping and tugging until Loki was forced to groan from the sensation.

When Loki went to bring them even closer together, however, Anthony broke away and moved out of the prince’s arms and hold. He did reach out for Loki’s wrist, making sure that Loki was following as he moved towards the bed. The weaponsmith only let Loki go when he reached the bedding and climbed on top of it.

Loki couldn’t stop the way his eyes travelled down Anthony’s spine and to his pert bottom. His arousal throbbed when Anthony reached into a drawer by his bed and pulled out some oil. He placed it on the sheet beside his leg before looking back at Loki expectantly. Loki quickly joined him, kneeling behind him - only to watch as Anthony shifted onto his hands and knees. The forgemaster spread his legs, _presented_ himself, and Loki’s body _flared_. He didn’t wait for Anthony to speak; the mage just grabbed the oil and poured it onto his hand.

The prince’s cock was hard and curved towards his stomach, and he felt flushed with arousal and heat. The position Anthony had taken was the easiest and the fastest for preparing him and, when Loki slipped the first finger inside the other man and heard Anthony groan, Loki just wanted to press his forehead against Anthony’s lower back. He wanted to breathe both the weaponsmith and the moment in and never let the other man go.

Norns, Loki had missed this _so much_ : Anthony’s heavy breaths and clenching muscles, the way he made Loki feel complete and _happy_ for the few blissful moments that Anthony was his. Gods, but how could the prince have ever given this man up? 

The thought, however unintentional, had Loki squeezing his eyes shut. He knew why, but Loki ignored the reason. Ignored why he still _needed_ to give Anthony up - because, right now, it didn’t matter: he didn’t _care_. Loki just wanted to enjoy this for as long as he could.

Pressing another finger into Anthony, Loki continued to spread him, working fingers deep inside and searching for the spot that made Anthony tremble. When Loki found it, he wasn’t disappointed by the other’s reaction. Anthony let out a half shout and clenched, jerking back against Loki’s fingers. Loki just rubbed against the spot again, making Anthony moan lowly.

The prince had to resist the urge to kiss Anthony’s back or trail his mouth up Anthony’s spine. He settled for sliding in a third finger and stretching Anthony wider until the other man was shaking slightly and gasping around soft moans.

Loki swallowed at the sight and removed his fingers before moving to get more oil in order to coat himself for sliding into Anthony. He had barely gripped the bottle, though, when the mage felt movement and looked up at the other. 

Anthony had shifted and was turning to face Loki. The prince was surprised, and Loki knew that it showed - but he simply hadn’t expected Anthony to move from where he was. Anthony had chosen their position and Loki had been... grateful… for the ability to avoid Anthony’s eyes; however, the coldness Loki expected to see wasn’t as prevalent. There was still a tightness to Anthony’s mouth, but arousal had softened his features. When Anthony reached for the prince this time, his hands cupped Loki’s neck as the forgemaster drew him into a kiss.

Loki dropped the oil, uncaring if it spilled as he reached for Anthony’s shoulders and kissed him back, losing himself in the softer press of mouths and Anthony’s wandering hands. The prince was so distracted by the kiss that he didn’t notice Anthony taking a stronger grip on him. He only noticed Anthony withdrawing his tongue. Loki moved to chase it, but Anthony was suddenly pushing one hand against his shoulder and shoving him to the side. The prince was so startled by the gesture that he didn’t fight the movement and ended up flopping down on his back on the bed.

Loki went to push up but, before he could get far, Anthony had moved to straddle his lap; it ended with Loki’s erect cock lightly brushing the curve of Anthony’s ass and he groaned while his eyes fell closed at the friction.

The mage jerked when he felt Anthony’s hand, now slick with oil, reach behind himself to stroke Loki’s erection. Loki tried to jerk his hips, but Anthony was pinning him firmly. Anthony only stroked him twice, though, before taking a firm grip on the base of the prince’s cock and shifting his position.

Loki fluttered his eyes open only for his breath to catch in his throat. Anthony wasn’t watching him. He was looking over his shoulder as he pushed himself up and off Loki’s hips. Loki was tense with shock and want as he lay underneath Anthony, with his eyes fixed on their bodies and the way that Anthony carefully, _slowly_ began to lower himself onto Loki’s cock.

The groan Loki let out was long and low, and it took everything in him to keep himself from thrusting into the warm heat of Anthony’s body. The prince wanted to close his eyes, to concentrate on keeping himself under control, but he couldn’t look away from the sight the other made. Anthony was flushed, panting, and his own eyes were squeezed shut as he breached himself. It was the most erotic sight Loki had ever seen, and he was almost shaking by the time Anthony dropped down the last of the way until Loki was completely sheathed.

They both moaned at the feeling, and Loki’s hands moved from where they had twisted in the sheets to grip Anthony’s hips. Anthony’s head had fallen forward, but he brought it up, looking down at Loki’s lust-blown gaze with his own darkened one. The weaponsmith suddenly smirked, brought his hands to Loki’s shoulders, and then started to raise himself up.

Loki let out a strangled sound that could have either been Anthony’s name or could have been wordless - he didn’t know: all the prince knew was that his world had faded to nothing but the beautiful man before him, the pleasure rushing through him, and the feelings bubbling in his chest.

Anthony’s face was a picture of beauty. His expression slackened with every spark of pleasure, and his brows furrowed as he concentrated on angling himself correctly, biting his lip or moaning if he aimed himself right and Loki’s cock brushed his prostate.

Loki could only grip Anthony’s hips, guide the forgemaster when he could, and otherwise just _stare_ at the other man: at his fluttering eyelashes, his flushed cheeks, and the mouth that Loki’s chest burned to kiss. The slow slide of Anthony over his cock was excruciating in its pleasure as he let Anthony control their motions. It was enough to make Loki feel like he was the centre of Anthony’s world; it was enough to highlight how Anthony was the centre of _his_.

The prince ran his hands up Anthony’s sides before he could think, moving to the other’s broad shoulders and back before angling the weaponsmith down so that he could kiss the other man. Loki cupped Anthony’s cheeks and poured himself into the kiss - not thinking about why he shouldn’t, not thinking about anything but holding onto the man who held his heart.

Loki kissed Anthony with everything he had, swallowing Anthony’s gasp and ignoring their joined bodies in favour of the kiss and everything it made him feel.

But Loki knew the kiss couldn’t last forever and they broke for air soon enough. 

Anthony was blinking at him with confusion, but Loki just dropped his hands, putting them back on Anthony’s hips and encouraging Anthony to move into his next thrust. They both groaned at the feeling, and Anthony’s head tipped forward again. He took a stronger grip on Loki’s shoulders and started moving in earnest, meeting Loki’s gentle thrusts with languid rolls of his hips and whining into the ones that hit the right place inside himself to have Anthony moving closer to his release.

It wasn’t until Anthony deliberately clenched his muscles on the head of Loki’s cock before sliding quickly back down on the mage that Loki’s control cracked, making him jerk his hips upwards and grind his head back into the bedding. The prince moaned Anthony’s name and clenched his lover’s hips tightly. 

Loki’s eyes were squeezed shut from the feeling but, when he felt tentative fingers on his jaw, they blinked open. Anthony was watching him with an unreadable look in his eyes. Their hips were still rocking together and desire was painted on Anthony’s expression, but there was also something else Loki couldn’t fathom. It made his heart race with something not unlike terror at the sight.

“Loki,” Anthony whispered before bending forward to press a feather light kiss to the prince’s lips while running his hands gently over Loki’s chest. His fingers even brushed right over Loki’s heart and something in the softness of the gestures unravelled the careful, desperate protection Loki had held onto for far too long.

The prince made a muted, broken sound and cupped Anthony’s face again, kissing him like before--with abandon and affection. Loki kissed Anthony with every bit of love that was building in his chest and exploding outwards like a newly formed star.

Anthony made a sound of shock, but Loki kept his eyes tightly closed, letting himself enjoy the moment and the feel of Anthony: on top of him, against him, _around_ him. 

Loki could feel his chest straining for breath all too soon, but he made sure to bring one hand down to grasp Anthony’s cock to stroke it before they parted. Anthony let out a weak moan before sucking in a sharp breath. Loki forced his eyes open to look up at the other man. The weaponsmith’s head was tipped back with pleasure and Loki pressed his hips up into the other in sharp thrusts as he continued to stroke Anthony closer to his orgasm.

It made Anthony start to twist and fuck down on Loki’s cock in earnest. It also made Anthony gasp out his name, and the sound of it made Loki’s next thrust stutter and caused Anthony to open his eyes. The next thing Loki knew, Anthony was staring directly at him, _holding_ the prince’s gaze as he clenched around Loki’s cock and hissed out pleased breaths.

Loki had never seen Anthony like this despite their numerous nights together. He’d never seen the weaponsmith on the brink of orgasm, his dark eyes blown wide and his mouth parted. He was stunning, and Loki’s heart erupted with pure, unadulterated affection and longing. He adored Anthony, he _loved_ him, and Loki knew - in that single moment - that his feelings were never going to change.

Loki knew, in that single moment, that Anthony had realised it, as well.

He saw astonishment and realisation crest Anthony’s gaze as the other man let out a shocked gasp. Loki felt panic curl through him, but he refused to stop. He forced himself to stroke Anthony faster, to smother Anthony’s attempt at speaking in a kiss as he continued to thrust into Anthony.

It took the work of moments for Anthony’s orgasm to rush over him, making the forgemaster cry out into Loki’s mouth and clench enough to send Loki into his own release. The mage stroked Anthony through the entirety of it, feeling his own pleasure shadowed by the sinking dread in his stomach and the knowledge that Loki would never be able to feel the other man against him again. He also knew that Anthony’s rejection would be swift in coming. 

He just couldn’t bear to hear it.

Loki let Anthony’s flaccid cock go the moment Anthony’s pleasure had finished. He then quickly but carefully rolled them until Anthony was under him on the bed. Loki kept his gaze averted as he gently pulled out of Anthony. 

The prince felt sick and his body was faintly trembling as he moved to the end of the bed and away from Anthony. Loki saw the other begin to sit up from the corner of his eye and the taller Aesir felt panic rush through him.

“Loki,” Anthony started, but Loki pushed off the bed and away from the other. He barely heard Anthony’s hurried “Wait!” before the mage was wrapping his magic around himself and teleporting from the room, dragging his clothes with him but leaving them to scatter on the floor of his own chambers.

The prince felt numb as he pressed himself back against the nearest wall. The stone was cold against his body, but he barely noticed it. Loki couldn’t see or think about _anything_ other than the look in Anthony’s eyes, the sound of his name as Anthony had tried to stop him from leaving.

Loki used a shaking gesture to reach for his wards. He knew he wasn’t in the best state for practicing magic, but he knew he couldn’t wait. The mage found all the holes he’d left for Anthony--the ability for the other to come to his rooms no matter the time - and he twisted them. Loki made it impossible for Anthony to ever get through the barriers without Loki’s permission.

He doubted Anthony would look for the prince, though, not after learning what he had tonight. Loki had to swallow down a choked sound at the thought of it.

Loki had to look so pitiful to Anthony now: in love with the weaponsmith from the start, so _desperate_ for the other’s time and his touch that Loki had presented the deal in the first place - because Anthony would know, he would _realise_ , how long held Loki’s affection had been. It would be all too plain to the forgemaster now.

The mage ran a rough hand over his face and squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

Loki had known it was hopeless, that Anthony would never love him - but now there was no way to hide from it. He would see the rejection in Anthony’s gaze anytime they crossed paths in the future - and that didn’t just hurt Loki; it _crushed_ him.

How could he have been so _foolish?_

Loki didn’t know, but the pain, the anger, and heartache all coalesced into one violent scream as he threw out his magic and sent it hurtling at furniture and books alike. 

He didn’t care about anything other than dulling some of the emotions that were sliding through him like knives, leaving nothing but ruins in their wake.

Loki just wanted to destroy something rather than acknowledge what had just destroyed him.

* * *

Loki didn’t leave his chambers for the better part of three days. During that time, Anthony made numerous attempts to visit him but was always stopped by Loki’s wards. Loki felt each attempt and tried his best to ignore the way the actions pulled at his heart.

The prince didn’t know why Anthony was so determined to talk to him, but he knew it couldn’t be anything good. In his darker moments, Loki even wondered if Anthony might attempt to use the prince’s emotions against him. His sleepless nights were filled with Anthony manipulating Loki’s affections to Anthony’s own benefit. 

Most of the time, Loki knew that Anthony was far too kind to ever do that.

Anthony would reject him as soon as they were alone together - that was inevitable. Loki could only assume that Anthony’s attempts to speak with him so urgently were to clarify what he’d discovered and to arrange a time for Loki to complete Anthony’s request and ward his workshop. 

Loki just... couldn’t do that yet.

The mage’s chambers were still a mess as he’d forbidden the servants from coming into his rooms. He could tidy and mend everything with a gesture, but Loki preferred to sit amongst the broken pieces and stare at nothing as he continued to think about Anthony.

It was a bitter, useless endeavour, but Loki found himself unable to stop. What did it help him to ignore the scraping pain that he felt? What did it help him to pretend Anthony meant nothing when Anthony meant _everything?_ Anthony knew the truth now and there was nothing the prince could do to change what had happened.

Anthony was lost to him and all that Loki would ever have now were memories. So Loki used them.

The mage thought about their time together and all the things that they would never do again. Loki even, in his more torturous moments, pictured what he _wanted_ : the things he could have shared with Anthony if everything had been different and he’d been the sort of man that Anthony could love.

The prince’s mind was one of the greatest weapons that Loki could wield, and there was no one he was greater at hurting with it than himself.

Loki didn’t know how long he would have remained that way - how long hopeless, agonising thoughts would have plagued him - if his mother hadn’t forced her way into his chambers. 

She had looked at him with shock and sorrow before she’d straightened his room with quick spells, then encouraged him to bathe, eat, and change his clothes. When Loki had done as she requested with little complaint, they sat down on his newly restored furnishings and she had prompted him to explain what had happened.

And Loki had, with stops and starts and enough inferences that, while Frigga wouldn’t have been aware of their arrangement, she _did_ know that their relationship had been physical. When the mage finally finished, his mother was silent at his side.

Eventually, she sighed before reaching into her sleeve to pull out a small, sealed envelope. She held it in the space between them until Loki was forced to take it from her waiting hand.

“Anthony asked me to give you this,” the queen told him and he flinched, wanting to drop the letter, _burn it_. Loki found he could barely look at it, already dreading what would be inside. “He went to great effort to speak to me.”

Loki swallowed thickly. “I owe him a favour.”

“He seemed truly distressed, Loki.”

Loki jerkily shook his head, denying what she was implying. “I promised him a ward. It will only be that. It’s not what you want it to be. He’s not... this won’t end happily for me, Mother.”

“Loki,” Frigga softly began, but Loki shook his head harder before using magic to banish the letter. The mage sent it back to Anthony, unopened, unread, and far away from him. Frigga made a noise of frustration and disappointment: “ _Loki!_ ”

Loki just looked away from her, refusing to say anything. Her sigh, when she released it, was full of exasperation and sadness.

“Loki,” she began much more gently and patiently. “Anthony does not seem the kind of man who would seek you out only to hurt you.”

“He wants the ward,” Loki said roughly... yet the thought finally sparked something new in him, something _worried_. Anthony wouldn’t pursue their deal so soon, not unless he truly needed it. Anthony would want to give him space, privacy - unless it couldn’t be avoided… unless the weaponsmith _needed_ help.

And what if something was truly troubling Anthony… _threatening_ him even? What if he needed magic to protect his workshop? Anthony had already been the subject of attempted blackmail; what if someone was attempting to steal from him? _Harm_ him?

Loki found himself tensing, his worry only doubling at the thought that something could have happened and Anthony could be in _danger_.

“Perhaps he just wants to speak with you,” Frigga suggested. “Perhaps he doesn’t wish to end things with you at all.”

“ _Do not_ ,” Loki spat, his voice harsher and full of warning as he glared at his mother. 

The queen ignored the black look she was being sent and continued, telling her son firmly: “He _may_ wish for more from you.” Her expression tightened slightly as she admitted, making Loki fight down a cringe: “He also may not. But you cannot hide from him forever, Loki.”

Loki dropped his eyes at that; he was staring at the floor, avoiding her expression, but... he already knew what he needed to do. The mage’s rejection was eminent; his mother was wrong in thinking he could expect anything else, but Anthony’s persistence and his request for a ward... that was troubling. It was also something Loki couldn’t ignore.

He couldn’t let anything happen to Anthony.

“Loki-” his mother started, but Loki interrupted.

“I’ll speak with him.” The prince swallowed, ignoring his twisting nerves and growing nausea. “I’ll do it today.” Loki kept his eyes facing forward as he requested: “But I would be alone now, Mother.”

Frigga barely hesitated; she squeezed his hand in response. She also shifted to stand before he felt her place a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Have faith, Loki,” she told him gently. “You are as deserving and capable of inspiring love as any other.”

Loki didn’t bother to correct her; he knew it would only pain them both in the end.

He waited until she had left before he forced himself to stand and walked over to his desk. The prince pulled out paper and a quill with heavy hands, closing his eyes briefly before he made himself open them to pen two sentences upon the parchment.

Loki refused to second-guess himself or find a means of changing his mind. He sent the letter to appear in front of Anthony with a spark of his magic before the mage pulled down the tangle of spellwork that was keeping Anthony from reaching his chambers.

 _You may come to my chambers, Anthony_. Loki had written. _They will now be open to you._

Loki felt drained by the time he finished, and he slumped down into his chair. The prince rested his elbows on the desk and his head in his hands as he closed his eyes tightly. He could have minutes or he could have hours to brace himself - but, soon enough, Anthony would come to see him. Loki had until then to draw himself together and present someone to Anthony who wouldn’t crack at a word or crumble at a touch.

Anthony might be able to break his heart and Loki might be willing to do anything for Anthony if he only asked - but Loki couldn’t let the forgemaster see that pained longing and utter desperation. He couldn’t let Anthony know just how utterly compromised and hopeless the prince was for the other Aesir.

Because while he might not be able to hold onto his heart, while the mage might not be able to salvage any happiness for himself, Loki could at least try to hold onto his pride and keep Anthony from seeing the lovesick wreck that he had become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I really leave you on such a horrible, hopeful, uncertain cliffhanger?
> 
> ... Why yes, yes I did.
> 
> See you again in two weeks! I hope you can hold out until then ;P
> 
>  **EDIT 30th October 2017:** For anyone waiting on the final chapter, my beta has been very unwell and unable to get the final chapter back to me with edits. Hopefully she will be able to get it to me soon. We're terribly sorry for the inconvenience and I'll update the moment that I can!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG GUYS. SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE. As you all probably know from my remarks in Sharpen Your Teeth and the previous chapter of this story, my fabulous and awesome beta rightsidethru got very sick and wasn't able to send me back this chapter, throwing off my update time. We're both very sorry for that, but your understanding and patience has been so fabulous.
> 
> She actually has a message for you guys here, that she wanted me to include:
> 
> Hello, everyone! This is **rightsidethru** , one of STARS’ beta readers. STARS has been kind enough to allow me this space to both thank and apologize to everyone for the time that it took for her to post this chapter. It’s been done for a while, but my health took a little bit of a nosedive—as she mentioned elsewhere in another story. The overwhelmingly positive support and well-wishes for me to get better was mind-boggling, and I can’t thank you enough for all of your patience and willingness to wait for me to get better (as well as all of my love and appreciation to STARS herself for stressing that my recovery was the important thing to focus on). There were a couple of negative comments aimed at STARS (I won’t do a call-out, but you know who you are and shame on you for spewing such vitriol at a writer who is producing content for you to read for free), but the overall response to me being sick was so positive and supportive, and I appreciate each and every one of you who kept me in your thoughts. Thank you to everyone, and I hope that this last chapter is everything that you all hope for—and more! Please join me in CHEERING LOUDLY for the fact that Loki FINALLY stops being an UTTER AND COMPLETE MORON. :D <3
> 
>  **Stars again:** So yes, just again, thank you all for your lovely support and kindness towards us both. There was some... negativity but we're ignoring that, because they deserve to be ignored :)
> 
> But seriously, I won't keep you any longer. I hope you all enjoy the final update of this story!! :D :D

Loki didn’t know how long he’d expected Anthony to take; the mage wasn’t even sure what he’d been hoping for, but it was less than an hour before the prince sensed Anthony’s energy signature striding through the castle and towards his chambers. 

It was early afternoon: plenty of time for Anthony to request the ward and for Loki to go back to Anthony’s workshop with him to perform the spell. Plenty of time, as well, for Loki to be close to a man who would only stare at the mage awkwardly or perhaps pity his pain and explain to him either gently or dismissively that he didn’t return Loki’s affections.

Loki had weathered many rejections in his life; he just hoped that he had enough strength to withstand hearing this one.

When the prince felt Anthony pass through the first set of his wards, Loki closed his eyes and forced himself up from his chair. He made a weak gesture with his hands to tidy his appearance before he stiffened his spine, hid all emotion from his face, and turned to face the door to his chambers.

It was the work of minutes for Anthony to reach it, and the forgemaster didn’t even hesitate or knock before he was pushing it open. The weaponsmith was wearing his standard working clothes and was holding the crumpled note Loki had sent him in one hand. Anthony’s eyes were sharply focused and, the moment they locked onto Loki, he was moving forward.

Loki didn’t have any time to react before Anthony was in front of him and the shorter Aesir’s fist was flying at Loki’s face. The prince was so surprised he didn’t even try to block the punch; he let it connect forcefully with his chin, and the power behind the blow was enough to make him stagger while a hand came up to touch his now-aching jaw.

“You _bastard_ ,” Anthony spat at Loki, and the words carved the first agonising wound into the mage’s chest.

“Anthony-” Loki began, trying not to let the anguish enter his voice, trying to say something, anything, that would stop the slew of insults.

“You _coward_ ,” Anthony growled. “You hid for days. You didn’t even open my letter and now you call me here? _You_ make _me_ approach! You! You who took your pleasure, only to insult me and _run_ from my home without ever admitting why you had sought to approach me in the first place!”

Anthony’s voice was furious, and his eyes were burning with his anger. His hands were clenched into tight fists, and he looked ready to start pacing or to attack Loki again.

Loki could only stare at the man in front of him: the man that he cared about and had still hurt, ignored, and betrayed. The prince knew he could lie or fight back, spitting out similar words to what he had told the weaponsmith in the other man’s bedroom--the very actions Anthony even now accused Loki of.

The prince knew he could choose many paths and that Anthony would not believe or accept any of them this time--would accept nothing but the truth.

So Loki said nothing.

He stood silent and tense, hoping that he wouldn’t flinch at the next volley of snarled curses--hoping Anthony wouldn’t say the wrong thing to shatter his strength or his resolve. Loki also readied himself to capture Anthony’s next fist should the weaponsmith try to strike out once more. 

The thought made Loki’s heart sink, but he knew better than to wish for a peaceful or _happy_ resolution. Anthony deserved to express his rage; he also deserved to beat Loki until he bled, but Loki could only bear to weather one pain today.

Anthony didn’t move, though. He simply stared at the mage in the silence that followed--as if waiting for the prince to say something; but when nothing was forthcoming, the brunet ground his teeth and demanded, “Will you not _speak_ , Prince?”

Loki’s mouth twitched bitterly before he could stop it. _And what would I say that you would wish to hear?_ the prince thought to himself but didn’t dare voice aloud.

The mage’s lack of response seemed to incite Anthony more as the other Aesir actually stepped closer, his eyes locked on the prince’s emerald gaze. “You have no defence for your actions? No reason as to why you would treat me in such a way?” The forgemaster paused for one moment before firing his final, piercing question: “Do you wish to deny that you are _in love_ with me?”

Loki was unable to stop the way he flinched. He tried to cover his reaction by hurriedly tilting his head and looking down at the other man coldly, but the prince doubted he succeeded. Anthony’s gaze was too knowing and triumphant. Loki still tried his best to deny it. “You think too highly of yourself if you believe-”

The prince’s words stalled abruptly when Anthony closed the space between them, stopping only when their chests were brushing and the shorter man was looking up at Loki. He was close enough to the mage that Loki could feel the weaponsmith’s every exhale upon his chin. The prince could also smell soot and leather and everything that made up Anthony’s scent after a day at the forge. The mage sucked in a sharp, greedy breath, and his eyes locked on the other man’s as his hands twitched to reach for the smaller Aesir’s hips.

Loki didn’t see Anthony move; the prince only felt a gentle hand get placed on his chest and over his heart. He knew Anthony could likely feel the way it was beating rapidly, almost straining against his chest. Loki couldn’t take his eyes off the other, however, nor could he do more than widen his eyes slightly when Anthony tilted his head just slightly upwards. It was familiar--and it was the way the weaponsmith would position himself when he was encouraging a kiss.

It was foolish and it was desperate--but Loki found himself tilting forward.

He froze when he felt the palm on his chest turn into a hand that fisted in his shirt’s fabric. Then Loki saw Anthony’s beguiling expression turn back to something firm and harsh. The weaponsmith’s eyes had narrowed and, while their mouths were close and Anthony had stood on tiptoes to have their lips almost brushing - it meant nothing as the other man whispered, “And even _here_ you would dare to deny that you love me.”

There was something so furious, so _betrayed_ , in that hissed accusation that it made Loki react. When Anthony tried to pull away, Loki’s hands came to the other’s hips, holding him close. The prince’s eyes had fallen away from the weaponsmith’s face, and he could feel his stomach sinking. Loki knew, even before he spoke, that regret would swiftly follow his choice--but the mage still forced himself to speak.

“And what would come of the truth?” Loki asked, so quietly that Anthony would not have heard the words had he been farther away. “What do I truly have left to hold onto but a lie?” His fingers tightened briefly on the smaller man’s hips before the mage made himself loosen them. He couldn’t convince himself to let go but, instead, he fingered the edge of the weaponsmith’s shirt. “I cannot have you,” Loki admitted, honest and painful, “so why should I confirm things that already have proof enough to damn me?”

Anthony didn’t react for a long moment before he let out a loud, frustrated breath; instead of shoving Loki away or spitting some new accusation, however, Anthony completely shocked Loki by shifting to lean his forehead on Loki’s shoulder.

Loki went still, fearing that the smallest breath or movement on his part would break whatever spell had befallen them. The only thing Loki did was gently turn his head just enough to look at the man pressed against him. Anthony’s hair was so close--Loki could almost bury his nose in it, almost brush a delicate, affectionate kiss against those messy locks.

“You are _such_ a _**fool**_ ,” Anthony half hissed, half mumbled into Loki’s shoulder.

The prince would normally complain about the insult, but Loki didn’t want to lose the moment or the feeling of Anthony against him. He also couldn’t deny it: for Anthony, the mage had long acknowledged he often was a fool. Loki just didn’t know why the weaponsmith wished to call him it now.

Was it because Loki had fallen in love with a man he could not keep? For admitting it and laying himself open to even more heartache? For starting the deal in the first place and leading himself to the pain that would no doubt follow this brief, soft moment? Yes, Loki knew he was a fool for doing all three of these things.

Anthony let out another breath in the form of a gentle, tired sigh before he started to pull back. Loki tried to stop him, his grip increasing its pressure on the other man--but, while Anthony paused for a moment, he soon continued his motions and Loki had no choice but to release him. 

The weaponsmith didn’t stop retreating until, even with his arms outstretched, Loki would be unable to touch the other man. Anthony stood directly before him, his eyes on Loki’s own; unlike before, however, the forgemaster wasn’t as furious. Anthony just looked unhappy and tired, and it hurt Loki for an entirely new reason.

“You do not need to say anything,” Loki found himself speaking before the other could, making Anthony blink with both confusion and surprise. Loki felt the sting of his words before he even set them free, but he continued regardless: “I will perform your ward. I will leave you be. You need not see or speak with me again.” Loki’s smile was a ghost of its usual self and devoid of all humour or happiness. “Whatever my reputation, no repercussion will befall you for the end of our association and for your...” he gritted his teeth briefly “ _disinterest_ in me.” The mage looked away. “I have already harmed you enough in recent days, I think.”

“Yes, you have,” Anthony spoke, angry tension taking over his body again while Loki’s eyes fell closed at the admittance and a grimace etched itself on his face. “You told me I was a lowly commoner, not worth the time spent maintaining a friendship. You told me _that_ ,” Anthony continued, his voice tight, “when I was about to ask you to stay the night.”

Loki’s eyes snapped open before he jerked his head around to stare at the weaponsmith in astonishment. 

Anthony had both his chin jutted stubbornly outwards and his arms crossed in front of him--an action that spoke of defence, defiance, and distance. 

“You are a difficult man to interpret,” Anthony continued to state. “I thought myself bound to the rules of our deal. I was just beginning to believe that calling us _friends_ held more truth than lie.” The forgemaster chuckled darkly as his eyes fell to the floor. “How foolish _I_ felt after your words--having dared to desire more time as your friend and your lover.”

The prince’s jaw dropped slightly, shock rushing through him--only to have the chill of realisation and regret curl throughout his body to tightly constrict his heart. “You... you began to care for me.”

The weaponsmith’s mouth quirked into a parody of amusement and Anthony looked back at Loki. “I began to like and desire a prince and a liar, a man whose every action left me unsure how to proceed. You had me worried I would press too hard at the boundaries you had laid down and cause me to swiftly lose what little I did have of you.”

Loki could remember with perfect horror and clarity Anthony’s panicked voice after Loki had ended the arrangement: ‘ _Is this because I sent a note when you were with the ambassadors? You could have ignored it - you could have said **no**. I made sure you got your side of the deal. I made **sure**._ ’

“I did not know...” Loki trailed off, not saying the rest aloud: _I did not dare imagine_. The mage felt like his world was spinning out of control, so completely unbelievable and impossible to comprehend. “You had far greater options, lovers who did not force you into a deal. You could have had anyone-”

“But they were not you,” Anthony told him simply.

The words sent so much longing, love, and relief through Loki that he moved before he could think otherwise, taking a step forward so that he could embrace the other man - but a single action from Anthony made him freeze. Anthony held up a hand, signalling the prince to stop, and Loki felt his blood run cold. 

“I have not forgiven you,” Anthony informed him curtly, the hard steel of earlier taking back over the other Aesir’s tone. “You have hurt me, insulted me, and made me despise you with everything that I had felt for you.” 

“Anthony-” Loki tried, but a glare from the weaponsmith made him halt immediately.

“You gave me a deal and told me I would only get what I wanted if I sought to satisfy you. My feelings grew from our friendship, and you sabotaged every attempt for more that I ever dared to reach for.” Anthony scoffed and shook his head. “I would be an even greater fool were I to let you near me again.”

Panic.

It flooded Loki as he listened to the other’s words. The condemnations were things that the mage couldn’t deny. They were decisions that Loki was only _now_ beginning to realise how deeply they had come to wound and ruin him. Anthony’s words showed him _exactly_ what the prince had missed and _exactly_ what he had destroyed. The glimpses of affection and fondness Loki had seen and dismissed were not the conjuring of his own, pathetic mind--but the slow progression of Anthony’s own deepening feelings for the mage.

Loki had been so busy trying to protect himself, to protect his _heart_ , that he had pushed away the one person that he wanted. The mage had been within reach of the happiness he hadn’t thought he could have, the outcome he had forever desired... and Loki had ruined it.

_It’s all my fault._

For a moment, Loki almost shattered. He almost collapsed under the weight of his grief, his regret, and his devastation. But the prince was too selfish. He was also an even greater fool than Anthony already believed him to be and couldn’t let the other walk away from him.

“Anthony, please.” Loki moved, his steps halting and his breath coming in a rush. He didn’t touch the other Aesir, but he stopped right in front of the weaponsmith with his hands pressed together in the air--in desperate, harrowing _prayer_. He held the other’s gaze beseechingly, desperately and faintly begging as he pleaded, “ _Please_ grant me a chance.” 

“Were you not already given enough?” Anthony asked, his eyes still narrowed and carefully cold.

“ _Another_ chance,” Loki corrected, willing to concede anything. “I will prove myself worthy of it - of _you_.” He could see Anthony wavering in the way his dark gaze flickered and his teeth caught the corner of his lower lip. So Loki pressed even further as his words gained an edge of something frantic, his knees ready to buckle if it made Anthony accept his appeal. “Anthony, please. I will prove it to you; I will do _anything_. Anthony, I will-”

“Court me,” Anthony interrupted. He then laughed harshly--as if he was surprised by his own words. The weaponsmith looked rueful even as he continued, shaking his head at himself - or possibly at them both. “Or try to.” 

Anthony took a step back from Loki, as if he didn’t trust himself. “Prove you can be a friend and maybe you could grow to be a lover again, as well.” The shorter Aesir’s expression still looked frustrated and unhappy, the fires of Anthony’s anger only briefly tempered as he fought with himself and his own feelings. “You hurt me, Loki, and I do not forgive easily.” He swallowed thickly. “So prove yourself worthy of my forgiveness. Make me believe that I can trust you again.”

Loki didn’t even hesitate to nod. “I will. I swear it, Anthony.”

Anthony’s next smile was still mostly filled with bitter irony, but there was a hint of something small and genuine lurking in his eyes that reminded Loki of their friendship--when Anthony had _laughed_ with him. It made Loki feel a terrifying amount of hope.

The weaponsmith just gave him a small nod, accepting the prince’s words before looking away from Loki and taking another step backwards, towards the door. “Then I will see you at my workshop in a few days when you come to complete the ward.”

Loki could hear the stipulation within the words, and the prince readily agreed to it. “I will come only when you request me.”

Anthony caught Loki’s gaze for a moment, and he smiled a little bit more. Loki could also swear that some of the tension and rage dropped from the weaponsmith’s shoulders. He didn’t say anything more, though; the weaponsmith merely turned on his heel and left the same way that he had come. Anthony did hesitate, briefly, at the door to look over his shoulder and eye Loki. The prince just watched him in return for the few seconds it lasted before the other Aesir finally left. 

The moment Anthony was gone, Loki let out a heavy breath and slumped, staring at the floor as his mind went a mile a minute, letting himself absorb everything that had just happened.

Anthony’s affection for him had been genuine; it still seemed impossible. 

_But you will lose it soon enough if you are not careful._

Anthony’s feelings for Loki had suffered greatly and had faded in light of the prince’s earlier actions. If Loki wanted even a sliver of a life with the man he loved, the mage needed to do something he very rarely did: He needed to be honest, vulnerable, and _open_ in his affections.

He also needed to control what he felt for Anthony and how he acted around the other Aesir. Loki needed to do what _Anthony_ wanted. He needed to court the other man on the weaponsmith’s terms--because Anthony had been given Loki one more chance and it was something the prince couldn’t afford to squander or ruin.

The mage needed to win back Anthony’s good regard.

Loki just had to hope that he hadn’t damaged things beyond repair. Loki had to hope that Anthony had enough forgiveness and affection for the mage to let Loki repent for what he had done and prove that he was a man worth loving underneath his many lies and mistakes.

* * *

The next few days passed torturously slowly. 

Loki spent almost the entirety of them planning how he would court the weaponsmith, worrying that he would never conceive of something that would be enough to change Anthony’s mind. When the letter finally came inviting him to see Anthony, Loki almost teleported there directly--but he forced himself to refrain. Instead, the prince made a point of openly walking to the other’s workshop to see the forgemaster, a spell book in his hands and his head held high.

Anthony’s door was open and he greeted Loki cheerfully enough. Loki’s desk was still devoid of items and, while Loki longed to place his books and scrolls on it, he knew enough to be aware that Anthony had not yet offered him the return of that intimacy.

The mage focused instead on doing what Anthony had requested; he asked about the specifics of the ward, and he tried not to wince at the knowledge that what he was about to perform could very easily lock _Loki_ out. It was his spellwork, however, so of course he could undo it and disregard Anthony’s refusal to see him if he truly wanted--but Loki had no intention of ever doing that.

Loki even offered, as much as it pained him to do so, to pay the fee required to have another mage cast the ward. It still wouldn’t keep Loki out, not when he was the best mage on Asgard, but it would certainly go further towards letting Anthony feel as if he _could_ keep Loki away should the weaponsmith truly wish to.

Anthony had considered the offer for a long moment before lightly shaking his head. He thanked Loki for the option, but he still asked Loki to create the ward. Loki had almost slumped with relief. He still told Anthony that he would heed the other man’s request should the weaponsmith block him from entering, but Anthony seemed to trust his promise.

The ward took a good few hours to craft, during which Anthony mostly tinkered on his projects and commissions with the only conversation between them being the progress of the ward and any further specifications Loki needed clarification on.

When it was complete, Loki explained what Anthony needed to do to keep someone out of his workshop and home. When his explanations were finished, Loki waited, trying to discern what else he could do or say to remain a little while longer - but Anthony didn’t offer anything more. He merely nodded, thanked Loki, and told him he would be in touch when he next required the prince.

Loki had no place to argue--so he merely nodded despite the sinking of his stomach and pain in his heart. He took his book, bid Anthony farewell, and left the weaponsmith to his own devices.

It took another week for Anthony to ask after him.

It was as if Loki had been thrown back to the earlier days of their deal and before they had become friends--back when Anthony only came to the prince when he needed something. Loki found himself waiting, nervous and eager, for the next letter from Anthony.

Frigga noticed the difference in her son, the difference in _them_ , and she smiled softly at the dark prince, happiness in her eyes even if she knew better than to speak about Anthony or to speak about how foolish Loki had been in his behaviour.

When Anthony next asked after him, Loki dropped everything to go to the other man’s workshop. He hadn’t been doing anything important, but Loki could honestly admit that very few things would have made him hesitate before searching out the other Aesir.

The mage reached the workshop quickly but, unlike before when he went to grasp the handle of the door, Loki was stopped before he could touch the metal. The ward pushed against the prince, trying to forcibly keep him from the premises. The spell was almost crippling to the mage in the way it made Loki suck in a sharp, pained breath at the thought that _already_ he was being rejected. That he was losing his chance to redeem himself in Anthony’s eyes.

 _No_ , Loki thought desperately, his face panicked as he looked at the door before glancing down at the note that had called him here.

What had he done? What had changed Anthony’s mind? Loki searched fervently through their interactions and through the week that had passed, frantically seeking what could have caused Anthony to retract his offer.

The mage could feel his heart falling and his horror and agony rising at the idea he had already lost his only chance. Loki couldn’t understand how or why--and he _wanted_ to; Gods, he wanted to apologise, to discover the fault and fix it.

_How could I have lost him already?_

Loki didn’t even notice the door of the workshop open because he was so lost in panicked, distressed thoughts.

“Difficult to understand, isn’t it?” Anthony remarked, making Loki jerk out of his mindscape and give his attention to the other man. Anthony was leaning against the doorframe with an intense expression as he explained: “When the one who offers a deal changes the rules without consultation and without any way for you to discover what you may have done wrong.”

Anthony stared at him pointedly. “It hurts, does it not? To be refused to enter their home and explain yourself.” The weaponsmith glared, sudden and sharp. “Be glad that I only allowed you to suffer for minutes as opposed to the _days_ you made me endure.”

The dark-eyed man waved his hand dismissively after that and stepped into his workshop; Loki could feel the heavy, prevalent presence of the ward fade as he was finally allowed inside.

Loki swallowed thickly as he followed the other Aesir indoors.

The prince felt tentative as he crossed the threshold, still stressed and nervous from the perceived failure, even while knowing Anthony had been _well_ within his rights for pressing the seriousness of the lesson Loki was being taught - and what, exactly, the mage needed to repent for.

“My actions were wrong,” Loki agreed, ashamed and remorseful. “You would be within your rights to bar me from your home.”

“Oh, you’re not welcome in my home,” Anthony told him firmly, glancing over his shoulder. “My workshop, yes, you can spend some time with me here--and only when I wish to have you in my company. We can speak at the feasts I am invited to, as well, and I might even ask you to join me at a tavern or come to the markets with me – but, for now, that is all.” Anthony paused, making the conditions of their new relationship extremely clear. “Will you accept that, Loki?”

“Of course.” Loki didn’t even hesitate; he didn’t dare feel anything but _relief_ at the little he was actually allowed. “I am grateful for what you do offer.”

Anthony nodded and looked away. “Good.” He also gestured vaguely at Loki’s old workspace. “You can sit there for a few hours, if you wish. I might need the advice of a mage on the commission I am working on.”

It was the smallest of olive branches and Loki grasped it readily. “Thank you. I would be happy to remain and to assist.”

Anthony didn’t reply but he did go back to his work. Loki just took in a careful, deep breath before moving over to the table he had come to call his own once upon a time. Loki didn’t dare make himself comfortable, but he did conjure a book to read, as well as some of the tomes with information Anthony would likely require for his current project.

It wasn’t a terrific start, but it was still a step in the direction Loki wanted; he was spending time with Anthony again and he was _helping_ the other man. It might take the prince years or even decades--but perhaps, in time, Loki could come to have the man in his life in the ways that he truly wanted.

It was a slightly forlorn hope, but Loki couldn’t quite squash it.

 _Become his friend first_ , Loki warned himself, _become more to him later--if you are deserving enough._

Loki had rarely attempted to win a fight or to earn something coveted through honest means because it had never, _ever_ worked out well for him in the past.

But, well… for Anthony?

Loki was willing to try it once more.

* * *

The next few months had Loki torn between hope and elation on the better days, nervous excitement in the mornings before he saw Anthony, and a continual, lingering worry that he would do something to wreck everything.

For the most part, though, things were going... well.

It had taken the first month and a half for Anthony to start relaxing around Loki and to laugh with the prince again. The weaponsmith even started encouraging Loki to spend more time with him--both at the workshop and in public. It was during the third month that Anthony told Loki that he could stop by the workshop whenever he liked and without an invitation; the forgemaster told Loki to start _keeping_ his things there and to utilise his workbench as the mage had done so before.

By the fourth month, it was almost as if they were friends again: seen in each other’s company by the other Aesir, laughing and walking through the markets together, talking in the corner of the feasting halls with goblets in hand. 

It was wonderful and encouraging, and Loki felt daring enough on the seventh month to hesitantly... brush his hand over Anthony’s. The mage had been hesitant with his touches, giving Anthony space and focusing all his attention on proving himself as a _friend_ and as someone whom Anthony could trust.

The prince had wanted more--he always had--but Loki wasn’t willing to lose Anthony because he was impatient. Anthony knew how he felt; Anthony had _offered_ him this chance. The part of Loki that always felt desperate, unsettled, and frantic wasn’t as prevalent nowadays; Loki could swallow those feelings down and truly ignore them this time. 

Loki didn’t feel as if everything was about to slip out of his grasp if he waited--rather, the prince _enjoyed_ the rebuilding of their friendship. He enjoyed rediscovering Anthony now that weaponsmith knew what Loki felt and desired only to encourage their association and relationship regardless. 

It was why he had waited until Loki felt he would gain nothing more than a careful rebuke if he allowed himself to act. They had been in Anthony’s workshop and looking at a complicated commission Anthony had been given when he’d let his fingers ghost over the back of the forgemaster’s hand.

Anthony had stilled--which had made Loki tense in response. The mage had started to pull back his touch, ready to revise and regroup and refrain from anything more between them until even further in the future - but Anthony’s dark eyes had found Loki’s own. Anthony had given him a small smile and had lightly bumped their shoulders together before going back to their discussion. 

Loki had still been unsure, so he’d tried again, questioning and tentative--and, this time, while Anthony hadn’t responded… he hadn’t rejected the touch, either.

It was all the permission Loki needed to begin gently and softly courting the other.

He didn’t press too hard; the prince merely invited Anthony to have private dinners with him in some of the finer taverns on Asgard. Loki touched the other man more: friendly, affectionate gestures that held more weight than that of a friendship. He handed Anthony a refill of his goblet when they were at feasts together. He bought Anthony little trinkets that had made him think of the weaponsmith.

Loki had never truly courted another; he’d never desired someone enough nor thought his affections would ever be returned if he had tried.

His behavior did not go unnoticed.

Loki did his best to ignore the remarks that Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three made. Fandral and Thor tried to offer him advice all while laughing at the teasing and occasionally malicious remarks that Sif and Volstagg made. Hogun, for the most part, was silent and disinterested in the whole affair.

The rest of the Aesir merely resorted to whispers behind the mage’s back, but Loki still heard the severe doubts that Loki could ever win Anthony’s favour. Frigga, at least, was encouraging and thrilled. She watched their interactions with a sparkle in her eyes and an adoring smile that made Loki want to blush at her attention.

Anthony had remained oblivious to the disparaging commentary for the first few weeks; however, at one tavern after dinner they had been leaving and Loki dared to place a hand on Anthony’s upper back. Anthony had neither shrugged him off nor moved into the touch but, as they were leaving, they walked past a table too drunk to curb their words or lower their voices.

“The Prince should know by now that the blacksmith does not want him!” one man remarked and Loki tensed. 

“Aye,” another followed, “weeks of nothing and still he persists?” The second man laughed. “Does the Prince not know when to quit?” 

A third voice added: “A true Aesir! A man who does not stay down when he knows that he has lost!”

Loki cringed slightly and closed his eyes briefly as the mocking laughter seemed to ring throughout his head, reminding him of all his worst fears. Yet, before the mage could retaliate with an angered spell or a snarled remark, Loki felt Anthony press back against the hand between the weaponsmith’s shoulder blades. He also felt Anthony’s hand come down to wrap around Loki’s wrist where it rested at the prince’s side. A calloused thumb stroked Loki’s skin, and the mage blinked open his eyes to look at the shorter man.

Anthony was smiling at him with something mischievous and brash--but in his dark eyes burnt a low, simmering anger at the offense.

“Shall we teach them to better hold their tongues, Loki?” The weaponsmith leaned even closer until he was almost whispering in Loki’s ear. “Shall we teach them not to insult a Prince and his friend when they know not of what they speak?”

Loki couldn’t stop the way he grinned, caught in the enjoyment of the other’s touch and the support of retaliation for the slight against him. 

“Nothing would please me more,” Loki replied, turning just enough to look at Anthony with their faces only inches apart.

The prince held the shorter man’s gaze even as he flicked his fingers, knowing Anthony would feel the movement from where his hand still encircled Loki’s wrist.

It was a simple trick and one the mage had long mastered. And yet the shrieks and overturning furniture still managed to tug Loki’s grin wider as Anthony turned to look at the three who had sought to insult the prince.

The liquor the men had been drinking had poured from their goblets as spiders and snakes and were even now crawling over the table while the men desperately tried to fling the creatures off them with little avail.

The tavern quickly burst into laughter at the uproar, but Loki only had ears for Anthony’s soft, approving chuckle before the weaponsmith led him out of the building with a firm hold on the mage’s wrist.

Loki only ended the illusion tormenting the three Aesir when they had stepped out into the fresh night air. Unfortunately, Anthony did let Loki’s hand go then, but he did lean back against Loki’s palm that still rested against his broad back. 

They walked back to Anthony’s workshop with soft smiles and gentle conversation--and if Loki’s hand slowly slid down until it could rest against Anthony’s lower back, then the other Aesir didn’t mention it or stop it.

When they reached Anthony’s home, it was with a regretful pang, knowing that Loki needed to part from Anthony for the night--but it was lessened by the way Anthony looked at him. The weaponsmith’s smile was softer while his eyes remained bright with humour and joy. Loki wanted to kiss him so much it almost _hurt_ , but the prince made himself swallow and step back instead.

“Goodnight, Anthony. Shall I come by and see you tomorrow?”

Anthony’s grin tugged a little bit wider. “Yes, I would like that.”

The answer made Loki feel a little bit daring--not enough to kiss Anthony the way he wanted but enough to reach out and take the hand that Anthony had wrapped around his wrist. The mage raised it slowly, giving Anthony plenty of time to pull away. He didn’t and Loki lowered his eyes as he brushed his mouth against the back of Anthony’s hand, the prince’s back slightly bowed with the gesture: an action that was done often in courting but something Loki had not yet felt confident enough to bestow. 

The warmth of Anthony’s skin against his lips brought back memories of times they’d shared in Anthony’s bed, but Loki forced them down to focus on the moment and the way Anthony’s hand was relaxed in his own.

Loki straightened after lingering longer than he probably should have and lowered Anthony’s hand back to the weaponsmith’s side. He nervously brought his eyes to Anthony’s face--only to find a wide, amused grin and a very light dusting of colour on Anthony’s cheeks. The sight brought Loki nothing but relief as a small smile curled his own mouth.

“Goodnight, Loki,” Anthony told him but without any reproach for his actions; the shorter Aesir sounded nothing but soft and affectionate.

“Goodnight,” Loki told him again before watching as the weaponsmith stepped into his home and left Loki to walk back to the palace alone.

He didn’t mind in the slightest--not when Loki felt beyond buoyed by the success of the night and by Anthony’s slow but steady reciprocation to his touches.

* * *

Loki made sure to fit in a kiss to Anthony’s knuckles whenever they parted from that night on. It was a simple touch but one that he came to cherish in the months that followed.

The prince knew that Anthony had more than enough reason to be wary and suspicious of him—and, for his own part, Loki was... willing to go at Anthony’s pace. He was willing to spend days in Anthony’s workshop with little more than a brushing of shoulders between them if it allowed the mage to see Anthony’s wide smile and hear his terrible jokes.

Loki felt... happier than he ever had during the deal that they had shared.

Anthony now knew how he felt and what the prince wanted and, in turn, Loki knew that the weaponsmith had desired and liked him despite the situation doing everything to make that difficult for the shorter man. Loki knew that this was his one and _only_ chance to have what he wanted and--while he still knew it could take years or decades--Loki could accept the pace with ease if it allowed him the chance to hope for an _eventually_.

The first time things changed, it had been late one evening and the two men had been working in Anthony’s workshop. The brunet was rambling and gesturing with his hands, giddy about some new idea he’d had, and the mage had only been able to watch Anthony with an aching fondness he couldn’t have wiped from his face even if Loki had tried.

Anthony noticed the expression, but he didn’t do more than look a little bashful and clear his throat, looking away from Loki and continuing on as if he’d never seen it. Loki had smiled a little sadly but otherwise equally pretended it hadn’t occurred.

It was only an hour or so later when they were packing up and Loki was making his way to the door, yawning slightly and looking forward to crawling into bed that he felt a hand on his wrist. The prince turned around to find Anthony right beside him and grinning up at him.

And perhaps it was because Loki was tired after a long day. Or perhaps it was because he had grown used to the slow pace and the parameters of their current relationship.

But when Anthony pressed forward and caught the very edge of Loki’s mouth in a brief kiss, Loki could only freeze with his eyes widening and his heart racing at the light touch.

Anthony dropped away after only a second, but Loki didn’t move and continued to look at the other man in complete shock as he tried to understand what had just happened. The weaponsmith just smiled at the mage, eyes dancing and smile warm.

 _What was that?_ Loki had asked, voice slightly strangled. _A goodnight kiss_ , Anthony replied, giving a grin and a wink. He’d then wished Loki a goodnight and gently pushed the prince out of his workshop. 

Loki had found himself stumbling back to his rooms in something of a daze. It had taken him an age to fall asleep that night and, when he had returned to the weaponsmith the next day, the mage had been hesitant and unsure.

Anthony hadn’t let him stay that way, acting as if nothing had happened and there was no cause for concern. It was only in the evening, when Loki was going to leave again, that Anthony stepped close to the prince and offered the same soft, barely-felt press of lips. This time, Loki had half expected it and let his eyes briefly fall closed. The prince didn’t try to deepen the kiss and, when Anthony pulled back, he fluttered open his eyes to see Anthony smiling at him.

It became the new way to end their evenings and, while Loki still disliked parting from Anthony, it brought him the sweetest consolation to know that Anthony would now be brushing their mouths together and whispering ‘ _goodnight_ ’ against the seam of the mage’s lips.

The routine went on for several weeks and although Loki wanted more than anything to trail after Anthony’s mouth and kiss him back, to taste the other’s mouth the way he longed to, the way he remembered from so long ago - Loki always managed to stop himself, doing no more than a slight lean forward before he quickly pulled himself back.

However, it was getting harder to resist: Loki could admit that much to himself, but he also _refused_ to give in and ruin the trust that Anthony now had for him. The prince was sure that Anthony knew what he wanted and what he was refraining from, but the weaponsmith didn’t mention it--nor did he stop the light, there-and-gone again kisses.

Some days, though... some days it was all Loki looked forward to.

 _Now_ was one such example:

He’d been kept from Anthony for three days, forced to attend numerous meetings and deal with tedious matters of the court. The prince had eventually stumbled into Anthony’s workshop at the end of a long day just so that he could spend some time with the Aesir--and to know that at the end of a long, tiring three days, Loki would have Anthony lean up and kiss him softly, melting all his troubles with a soothing, affectionate gesture.

Anthony quickly filled him in on what the mage had missed, letting Loki do little more than watch the forgemaster with his chin propped in his hand as he hummed absently in response to Anthony’s rambles. It unwound a deep-set tension that had been in Loki’s muscles as he enjoyed the warmth of the workshop and the sounds of Anthony moving around the space while talking.

When he heard the distinct sounds of Anthony packing up for the night, Loki had blinked his eyes into focus--only to find the Aesir had come to stand in front of the prince, smiling down at where he sat. Loki’s own lips curved up softly.

The mage knew it was odd, in the back of his mind, when Anthony’s hand came to lightly cup his neck--but Loki was too busy tilting his head back and letting Anthony bend down to press their mouths together. Loki expected it to last mere seconds, as it always did, but instead of pulling away, Anthony shifted imperceptible closer and the prince felt the other man’s mouth part as his tongue stroked softly over Loki’s lower lip.

A small noise formed in Loki’s throat and his lips parted, half in shock and half in want, and Anthony took full advantage of the opening. His tongue dipped into Loki’s mouth and, this time, the sound _did_ escape Loki as his hand came up to tightly grip Anthony’s shirt. Loki didn’t pull the other man closer; he merely held on as he kissed Anthony back.

The prince tried to hold on to his desperation and his need, but he wasn’t sure he managed as he let himself fall into the kiss. Loki didn’t push for more; he didn’t even _ask_ to explore Anthony’s mouth in turn, but the weaponsmith made encouraging noises and coaxed Loki’s tongue to chase after his own.

Anthony’s hand was a warm, cherished weight on Loki’s neck, his thumb stroking the mage’s skin soothingly as they continued to kiss—both breaking away only to gasp for air before Anthony was bringing their mouths back together, letting them savour each brush of the other’s lips and tongue.

When they eventually broke apart for good, it was with heavy breaths as they rested their foreheads together. Loki’s hand was almost white-knuckled in the other Aesir’s shirt while his other hand had moved during the kiss to cup over Anthony’s waist.

“Anthony,” Loki gasped, half fearful this was a singular event--and half begging that it wasn’t the case.

The weaponsmith made a small, almost shushing noise before telling him, “I’ve missed you the past few days. I wanted to say goodnight properly.”

The reply made Loki shudder and the mage barely managed to resist wrapping his arms around the other man and drawing him even closer. A large part of the prince still wanted to beg to remain, just so that he could have more time in the other man’s company.

But no--this was more than enough.

Loki still made no move to pull away from Anthony’s touch. The mage held on for as long as he could and mourned having to let the other man go at all. He consoled himself with the knowledge that there was nothing that would keep the prince away from the other man tomorrow.

And Loki _hoped_ that when he parted from Anthony at night in the future, he would be greeted to the same kiss that they had just shared. Loki hoped, fervently, that this had become one further step forward in their relationship and that, for even just a few moments each night, the mage would be able to hold Anthony tightly in his arms.

* * *

The kisses did continue and, while Loki adored them more than anything, they began to cause him... problems.

His desire for the other man had never gone away--but with Anthony pressed against him and their mouths curling together, the mage’s body quickly started to react.

Anthony would have his hands on the prince’s shoulders, tucked around his neck and even tangling in Loki’s hair. Sometimes, Anthony would be pressed entirely against him, backing Loki against a wall even as the mage’s arms wrapped around the weaponsmith’s waist.

Gods, it was _intoxicating_ to have Anthony kissing him again... but it also played havoc on Loki’s resolve. It became harder to pull away from Anthony, harder to resist holding him close. Loki did his best to hide his arousal from the weaponsmith--but knew that he failed terribly. The mage _did_ manage to refrain from trailing kisses down the other man’s neck, of sucking a mark against his skin, or refusing to let him go when Anthony eventually pulled away.

Anthony also started requesting private dinners, going so far as to invite Loki into his house to eat or agreeing to have a meal in Loki’s chambers. It was intimate, it was _wonderful_ , and it always left Loki aroused and wanting and unable to do anything but watch the other man walk away.

The prince tried to resist at first but quickly gave in and stroked himself to completion thinking about Anthony. He shied from using memories of their time together during the deal and instead conjured whole new scenarios while groaning out Anthony’s name as he brought himself to orgasm.

Loki often found himself imagining that Anthony did something similar when he was alone for the night; it was usually when he pictured the other man in his bed, twisting in the sheets and calling out for Loki that the prince’s climax swiftly broke over him.

The other man had also made his fantasies _worse_. Anthony would press against Loki’s arousal on numerous occasions and smirk before whispering something wonderful in the prince’s ear; ‘ _Think of me; I will certainly think of you_ ’ or ‘ _A bed and some oil; I believe that is what I need now, Loki_ ’. The weaponsmith would then press a final, parting kiss to Loki’s lips before pulling away and leaving for the night.

The mage had resigned himself early on to nothing but his own touch following long, intense kisses and flirting statements from Anthony, and he was managing just fine; he was _handling_ things fine until one night in his chambers, everything changed.

They’d had a lovely dinner and had been drinking wine on one of Loki’s settees when the conversation had faded. Loki had sighed internally, sad and accepting, and prepared to bid Anthony goodnight when the smaller man had instead surprised him. 

Anthony was dressed in a simple tunic and leather pants, having changed out of his working clothes for dinner. He’d put down his goblet on the table--but instead of standing as Loki had expected, he’d turned to the prince and, without ceremony, shifted closer before casually tossing one leg over Loki’s thighs to straddle him.

Loki’s eyes had widened but, before he could react, Anthony was taking Loki’s goblet and twisting to place it behind them. When his hands were empty, the weaponsmith turned back to Loki, placed his hands on the prince’s shoulders, and brought their mouths together for a kiss.

The prince acted instantly, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss as his hands came to rest on Anthony’s hips. He let the smaller man lead, enjoying the taste and feel of him as Anthony’s hands skimmed over the mage’s shoulders and up to cup his neck.

Anthony’s mouth was slow and addictive, pressing against the prince and rubbing their tongues together in a way that had Loki biting down on a moan. His arousal was quick and easy to form as minutes passed with nothing but long kisses and Anthony’s wandering hands. Loki could even feel Anthony’s own pants tightening--which only served to send lust shooting through the prince.

It was when the weaponsmith started lightly rocking his hips and brushing their arousals together in a slow, rolling motion that Loki let out a pleased hiss. He wanted things to continue more than anything, but he knew that they couldn’t. He forced his hands to Anthony’s chest and lightly pushed him backwards, breaking their latest kiss. 

“Anthony,” Loki spoke, the word coming out more of a groan at a particular grind of Anthony’s hips. He hurriedly dropped his hands to the other Aesir’s waist to make him stop. “What are you doing?”

The weaponsmith just grinned down at him, raising an eyebrow as if it should be obvious before rocking his hips again, making Loki’s eyes flutter closed and his head tip back against the couch. The mage couldn’t stop the way his hips thrust slightly against Anthony’s, craving more of the touch.

The realisation of what he was doing made Loki grit his teeth before tightening his grip on Anthony’s hips – to make him _stop_ \- so that he could speak and _clarify_ : “Anthony, I do not know what you _want_ tonight.”

Loki’s words made Anthony blink briefly with surprise before he just _smiled_ , warm and wide and incredibly fond. 

He bent down instantly until their foreheads were resting together. “Loki. Loki, my friend, my prince, and my handsome mage: what I want tonight is _you_.”

Loki was sure he didn’t breathe for the longest moment, even when the words soaked in--a part of the prince couldn’t believe it. Loki brought his hands to Anthony’s neck, forcing the man back so that he could hold those brown eyes and search them for even a hint of a lie. The mage knew his gaze grew almost frantic, flicking fast and unseeing over Anthony’s face the longer Loki couldn’t detect a falsehood. He felt Anthony’s hands come to his cheeks until Loki had no choice but to hold the weaponsmith’s steady gaze.

“When you try, Loki,” Anthony told him softly. “When you have patience and respect for the one you care for. When you let me pick my own pace and when you allow yourself to be honest and to drop your masks and your lies. When you be _yourself_ … you are remarkably easy to love.”

Loki let out a sound he wasn’t proud of before he dragged Anthony down into a searing kiss. He kissed Anthony with every bit of passion, affection, and _love_ that he had been restraining since Anthony had given him his last and only chance. The prince practically devoured Anthony’s mouth as he let himself kiss Anthony with everything he had, feeling as if he was happy enough to burst.

When he finally broke the kiss to gasp, Loki only moved to rain kisses along Anthony’s jaw, cheek, and neck--only stopping to press his face against the skin of Anthony’s throat, his eyes squeezed shut as the mage clung to the other man.

A part of him was terrified it was a dream; the rest of him had already run frantically through all of the tricks he knew to discover if he was asleep or not - and Loki _was_ awake.

“I love you,” Loki whispered, so softly he could barely hear it himself. His heart jolted with fear even as the words escaped him, desperate to be said.

He felt soft fingers card through his dark hair. “What a coincidence,” Anthony said softly, almost teasingly, “for I love you, too.”

Loki squeezed his eyes shut tighter--but it didn’t stop the way his eyes stung, the way a tear might have escaped at hearing something he’d wanted for _so long_ and half suspected he’d never be able to earn. 

“Stay tonight,” Loki found himself blurting, his arms coming to wrap around Anthony’s waist while his hands tightened in the back of the other man’s shirt. The mage didn’t care what else happened tonight--intimacy or not, just - “Stay with me tonight.”

Anthony chuckled, soft and sweet, and Loki felt a kiss brush against his temple before Anthony whispered something that the prince had always wanted to hear but never expected to gain: “ _Gladly_.”

__

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now! Some of you might be surprised at the fact there is no physical intimacy in this - but! There is a good reason behind that; throughout the story Loki has been focused on sex being the only thing he could have, the only thing he could allow himself to want... but this chapter? Anthony's chance? It gave him something else - _everything_ else and that is the most important thing about this chapter. Loki got the one he loved and in the end, he asked for the thing he could never do in the past, and right now, _the only thing he wants_. He asked for Anthony to stay, and Anthony said yes, Anthony chose him and that is... everything to Loki :')
> 
> ... _But_ if you do want to know what I envision in a post story setting it's this:
> 
> That they cuddle for a while on the couch, trading soft, lazy, happy kisses until things start to heat up and they make their way to Loki's bedroom, a part of them always touching each other as they move. The sex is slow, intimate, filled with long kisses and moans of the other's name. It's face to face, and Anthony's hands always keeping Loki close.
> 
> When they finish, Loki gives him affectionate aftercare, cleaning them both and trailing kisses all over every part of Anthony he can reach while Anthony strokes Loki's hair and chuckles softly. Eventually Loki slips them under the covers and wraps himself around Anthony in a loving embrace. Anthony cuddles back and they maybe kiss a few times but they soon fall asleep together. When they wake up in the morning, Loki is _bursting_ with happiness and kisses Anthony's skin softly, just because it's there, just because he _can_ and Anthony eventually wakes up and when he sees Loki he smiles instantly and whispers Loki's name in a soft, loving voice and Loki can't stop himself from kissing the other man for that.
> 
> Morning sex probably happens. Publicizing of their relationship _definitely_ happens (Odin is the only one who's a little perturbed, mostly that it's not someone of a better rank, but, hey, whatever keeps Loki out of mischief, really).
> 
> All of Loki's fantasies about closing up Anthony's workshop and going back to Anthony's house happen. All his fantasies about Anthony staying over in Loki's chambers and lazing around with him for days, distracting him and kissing Loki at every available opportunity happen.
> 
> It all happens and it never stops.
> 
> Loki gets his lover, his _partner_ and the both of them get to be 100% happy and in love because Loki proved he could win what he wanted through honesty and love, and no victory had ever been more worthy or sweeter.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Deal with the Prince colored fanart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11492586) by [Ender_Rock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ender_Rock/pseuds/Ender_Rock), [NovaRain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaRain/pseuds/NovaRain)
  * [Bath](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11564019) by [PunkPlaidKitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkPlaidKitty/pseuds/PunkPlaidKitty)
  * [A Deal with the Prince Fanart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11433804) by [NovaRain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaRain/pseuds/NovaRain)
  * [Fearing Rejection](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11633061) by [PunkPlaidKitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkPlaidKitty/pseuds/PunkPlaidKitty)
  * [The Letter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11891508) by [PunkPlaidKitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkPlaidKitty/pseuds/PunkPlaidKitty)




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